


Din'anshiral

by MoonlightIllusionist



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish, Dragon Age - Freeform, Dragon Age Inquisition, Eventual Smut, Inquisition, M/M, Multi, OC, OC's and junk, Samahl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightIllusionist/pseuds/MoonlightIllusionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samahl's life has been thrown into a sea of chaos. The loss of his clan, his best friend, lover, and the very thing that gave him joy.<br/>He now roams Thedas in search of a means to end his suffering. Or to simply isolate himself further.<br/>Bran wouldn't want him now that he was a blood mage. Not after what he did...<br/>But the world is in shambles. The Mage Rebellion was only the tip of the ice burg, and now there's a giant Breach in the sky?<br/>Creators help us. Maker, Andraste -- someone. Anyone...<br/>But instead, we get Ghilas. Wonderful. Gods have a sense of humor after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The meaning of a Name

Electricity buzzed around him. Fire cracked beyond his vision. Frost attempted to encase him, but nothing touched him. Not until the blade came down. The barrier dissipated only seconds before, and the elf fade-stepped across the battlements, and out of harm's way. A small line of blood ran down his cheek -- perhaps not completely unscathed.

Samahl hissed, his whiskey eyes narrowing. This wasn’t a fight he instigated, but it was one he certainly planned on finishing. Had these weak mages known whom they happened to face, perhaps they would have taken the time to second guess their initial reaction.

A burst of energy sprang forth from his chest, firing upon the sword spell first. Keeping the physical weapon away from him as long as possible was the best measure for this fight.   
Again, he moved across the battlefield, freezing all within his path.

Face-to-face with one of his attackers, Samahl smeared a hand across his cheek. The blood caught between his pands, and in an instant, began to raise like droplets of water from his skin. The look of horror upon the mage's face was not surprising as Samahl unleashed a fireball at such close range. The others robes caught instantly, sending his entire body up in flames in a matter of seconds.   
The elven apostate ignored the smell of seared flesh. He ignored the agonizing screams as he whipped around, and on the balls of his feet, froze the spell sword in place, mere centimeters from the tip of his nose. He didn’t need a staff to be deadly. In fact, he left his perfectly placed against his back. Too many years had he practiced. Too many years had he perfected his fighting style. He would not be taken down by these men.   
Pulling the blades from his hips, Samahl sank them deep into the frozen body of the spell sword, shattering him on impact. His movements were graceful, poised, and thought out, and yet held with no abandon. They were natural, brought together through years of careful discipline.

Turning to his final attacker, Samahl flicked his wrist, ending the fight with a keen blade. It shot through the air like a purposeful hand and came to a sudden rest between the man's eyes. His head jerked back, eyes rolling up in their sockets, before his body crumpled to the ground, a puppet suddenly cut from its strings.

Silence rang over the area. Those same honey-brown eyes took little time in gazing across the hillsides for any incoming attacks. He stilled himself, trying to sense any wisp of breath that could be some rogue in stealth, just waiting to strike when his back was properly turned, and his guard down. But nothing came; nothing but the wind.

“This stupid war is going to destroy Thedas if these morons don’t act accordingly,” he scoffed, sauntering over to the corpse. He retrieved his blade, and placed both back at his hips before rummaging through the dead's belongings. He found little in coin, but the herbs would be useful.

 

Samahl couldn’t even admit to that being the only thing that would destroy Thedas. With the Breach in the sky, and smaller rifts opening all over the place, there was no place safe from harm. Which was the main reason he ventured down from the Wilds in the first place; in search of this so-called Inquisition. If they were trying to close the breach, and save all of Thedas, then Samahl wanted to help. There were people in the world -- he hoped -- that he still cared about, and he wanted to protect them, even indirectly. And so, here he was, wandering about the Hinterlands looking for the Inquistion camps. One of these days he was bound to find it _WHILE_ the Herald was actually there, right? Or that's what he kept hoping. For three days now, he circled the camps -- finding them all, and continuing to wait -- but with no avail. He was becoming restless. He’d need to get closer and hear about where the Herald would be soon if he didn’t show up.

Until then, Samahl took to the countryside, trying to keep out of fighting as much as possible. He didn’t want to end up in the refugee camps, simply out of worry for the innocents there, but also due to him being a Dalish elf. They might not take him for the friendly sort -- which he wasn’t. But he wasn’t one for mindless bloodshed. If he had no qualm with you, then he’d leave you be. Simple as that. But it wasn’t that simple for everyone else it seemed.

Samahl continued to gather herbs, he hunted his own meat, and made himself a small camp just down a ways from one of the Inquisition camps. He kept to himself, and drew in little attention to his position.

 

Sitting by the fire, Samahl simply stared at it, listening to the crackle of the timbers, and letting its warmth cover him as much as possible. It was cold in the Hinterlands. A lot colder than he prefered, but he’d been colder, that was for sure. For the time being, a fire ward did well to keep his fire going. It kept it raging, warm, and comforting. Perhaps so much so that his eyes closed, and for a moment, he was vulnerable.   
There was a soft gasp and whiskey eyes snapped open, immediately coming into contact with soft baby-blue orbs. The Elf’s entire body was tense, as if at any moment, he could strike. What he found was less threatening than anticipated, but still, he stayed unmoving.   
He was just a small lad. Probably no older than ten years of age. But he was alone.   
Samahl’s eyes narrowed lightly.   
“Y-you’re Dalish...aren’t you?” the boy questioned, and Samahl sat there a moment, eyeing him. His ears twitched slightly, trying to get a better angle at any sounds around him -- was he some kind of distraction for an ambush? Samahl heard nothing. Just the crackle of the fire.   
“What gave it away?” sarcasm practically dripped off his tongue.

“You have those markings…” the boy pointed towards his own forehead, gesturing to Samahl’s own Vallaslin.   
“They’re called Vallaslin,” he informed, his eyes blinking slowly, and opening to find his gaze moved back to the fire.   
“Oh….” there was an awkward silence.

“Why are you...out here alone?”   
“Who says I’m alone?”

The boy seemed to tense up lightly at the question, his eyes wandering to see if he could spot movement in the darkness around them.

“Well...I mean…..I just…” there was a pause. “I’ve been watching you from my house...and...it’s just you…” Samahl didn’t look at him, just stared at the fire.

“You would be right then,” and again, there was silence. Samahl’s chest ached, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to be bothered any longer. “Shouldn’t you be running home? It’s late. And the last thing I need is your father running out here and trying to kill me for ‘attacking you’, or something of that nature,” he scoffed.   
The boy just stood there a moment, his eyes moving to his feet as he softly toiled with the hem of his shirt.

“I don’t have a Father…” his response was soft. “Or he’s not here, anyway,” his eyes moved back to Samahl. “He was Dalish...like you,” Samahl’s eyes moved back to the boy and they locked again.

“I am certainly not your father, kid,”

“I-I know!” his voice was nervous, almost panicked. “I was just….curious….I’ve never met a Dalish elf before….”   
“There isn’t anything special about the bitter and homeless,”

“All of you are like that?” the tone seemed confused, and like he had expected a different answer. Samahl chuckled lightly.

“Mostly,” even he could admit to feeling bitter, and he was in fact homeless.

“So….you don’t have a home?”

“No,”

“What about your family?” the nerve was struck and Samahl snorted, standing. This sent the boy backwards, feeling threatened, and wanting to put some distance between the two.   
“Why don’t you go back to your house, shem? I don’t have time to answer all your stupid questions,” he snapped, practically hissing in the others direction. The fire roared to life, sending a shiver to the young ones spine, and he quickly took off.

Samahl watched him briefly as he raced back down the path and towards the small cabin. He only sat himself down when he knew the boy was inside. Samahl was left alone for the rest of the night.

 

The following morning, however, while he hunted for breakfast, Samahl found himself in yet another awkward moment with the small lad.

“What are you doing?” The boy whispered, crouched now beside him as Samahl silently stalked a ram just a couple yards away. Samahl repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Hunting,” he growled. The boy fell silent, but continued to watch him, trying his best to follow his movements. Samahl attempted to get in closer, hoping he could simply catch the beast off guard and end its life without having to use any magic. However, the Creators had a different idea, as the small child stepped down on a twig, and the snap that emulated around them practically echoed in his pointed ears.   
The ram jerked its head up, noticing them, before taking off.   
Samahl growled, shooting a glare down at his unwelcome guest, and took off after the ram. Even with Samahl’s agile body, the ram knew the area better than he, and was quickly gaining ground. Samahl let out an irritated groan before a shot of electricity escaped his outstretched hand, and encased the creature. It held in place, completely immobile. He took this time to strike, bringing a dagger down in just the right place to end its life.

There was silence after, which left Samahl to attempt to turn his gaze to find the boy without being so blatant about it. He stood where he had been left, staring wide eyed at him.

“Y-You’re a mage!” His voice held more panic and fear than he had anticipated. Samahl didn’t move. Instead, he chose to continue his stance, knelt down beside the ram as he began to dress the beast for breakfast.   
“So?”   
“So! You could become an ab-abomination!”   
“Not as easily as that,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.   
“That’s not what Mama says,”

“You’re mother is an idiot then,” the boys face scrunched up, obviously angered by his words.   
“Take that back! She is not! She’s smart, and beautiful, and kind, and -- and -- !!”   
“An idiot who follows every whim the Chantry throws at her, I’m sure,” Samahl stood. “Perhaps not the first to make an accusation at someone gifted with magic, but certainly not against condemning them to a life of imprisonment for simply being born different,” Samahl closed the distance between the two. “An ill educated whore who didn’t know when to close her damned legs, and now look at her -- a single mother raising a stupid boy, to become a stupid man,”

“Stop it! _Shut up!_ ” the boy shook his head, almost violently, before he reached forward and shoved Samahl away from him. “You’re mean! You are all bitter, aren’t you?!” the boy stood there, practically seething with rage that tears prickled in his eyes. Samahl didn’t back down. He didn’t release. His eyes simply narrowed, electricity beginning to flicker across his skin.   
“Perhaps you should educate yourself on _why_ ,” he growled. “Go home and cry to your pathetic mother. Maybe she’ll just force feed you some more ignorant lies,” he huffed, turning on his heel and back to his breakfast.

The boy left. Samahl wouldn’t see him again for three days.

 

And when he did return, Samahl was sitting on a rock near the stream, taking the time to clean himself off in the cool water. Samahl heard him coming. His footsteps were shaky, yet driven; he held purpose. Samahl turned his head to look at him as he came out of the clearing.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Samahl, more irritated than the younger counterpart, sat silently upon the rock just as naked as he had been the day he was born. The other? Completely frozen in place, and the brightest shade of red -- taken off guard by the fact that Samahl didn’t seem to care if the lad saw him or not. They were both male, weren’t they?

“Oh!” The boy tripped backwards, falling back into the brush from whence he came. “SORRY!”

Samahl sat there a long moment, listening to the snaps of twigs, and crunch of leaves as the boy ran back up the embankment towards his home. He listened to the slips, slides, and trips he made as he tried to reach the top as quickly as his little legs could -- all out of embarrassment.

There was a lingering silence that rang throughout his ears before laughter erupted from his core. It caused him to pause, unable to do anything but laugh. His body quivered with every gesture, and warmth radiated from his chest. Specks of magic bounced about him as if dancing. He hadn’t laughed that hard in a long while. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he laughed.

And he continued to laugh, even as he tried to stifle the sound and continue his bath. Samahl lowered himself into the cool water, only to be overtaken in chuckles, which brought him back to that full bound laughter. The sound was resonate, and it echoed the small pool, leaving the elven apostate feeling more calm, and comforted than he had in a long while -- not since he rested in the arms of the man he called his closest friend. Ah, it had been some time since he had seen him, hadn’t it? Samahl had tried to see him, but….he was gone. And he couldn’t find to where.

 

By now the laughter had died down, and Samahl sat quietly in the pool of water. Using his magic to warm it up, he allowed himself to slide further into the warmed waters. His sides burned, and chest ached. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, and he let out a contented sigh as he wiped them away.

Noise drew him back into reality. How long had he sat there in his moment of vulnerability, not paying attention to the world around him? His entire body tensed, trying to listen to the sound. It was coming closer, closer, closer. Was it a person? The lad? A ram? Fennic? Hell, it could have even been a fucking bear!

“U-uh, I just -- I’m not looking!” Samahl didn’t have to. He laughed again, leaving the boy confused. Of course he’d be back. Why wouldn’t he be back? He had raced off so quickly. “I wanted to…” he trailed off, as though caught off guard by something. Again. Was it a bear?

Samahl turned and looked to him, those honey-brown eyes glistening. The boy stared back at him. “You….you look different when you smile,”

Samahl’s smile instantly faded.

“What do you want?”

“O-oh! Right!” the boy stood there a moment, checking the basket he held in his hands. “So...I asked Mama, like you told me to, and I….” he paused, as if trying to find the right words to stay. Samahl stayed silent, patient, waiting. “And now I get it,” their eyes locked. “Or I’m trying to. Humans aren’t very nice to you all, and have threatened you guys for like no reason ever...other than being there….” Baby blues were back onto the basket, hiding away from Samahl’s gaze. “They stole your land, after trying to give you guys land...and we don’t try to understand...humans don’t try to understand your -- um -- culture,” words he clearly picked up from his mother. Eyes locked again. “But I do...No matter what I do, I’m never going to belong to either. I’m too elf to be human, and too human to be elf...But that’s okay...I don't want your approval, or anyone else's,” Samahl sat there in silence, just letting the boy get these words off his chest, as if it would make the biggest amount of difference to him. Samahl didn’t care one way or the other if the kid was half, or not. But Samahl had lost enough to know not to care about actual blood. Family was family, no matter what shape their ears were. “But I wanted to...ap….” he seemed to be struggling with the word. “Appol…”

“Apologize?” Samahl questioned, and the boy perked up, smiling.

“Yeah! Apologize for making you upset,” he continued to grin. “Mama said you got ‘defensive’, but you were right. She does listen to the Chantry sometimes more than she listens to her heart, and that’s not good. But she’s also seen what can happen...so it’s not entirely without...um…...m...marret?”   
“Merit, yes,” Samahl continued to correct him, though kept silent other wise.

“So...I….I don’t want to be afraid; mama and I don’t want to be afraid of mages...or anyone else--”

“Now is precisely the time to be afraid,” Samahl interjected. “The mages and templars here don’t care about the innocent people who get caught up in their war. I would be wary of them,”

“But you care…” It was a comment that caught the elf off guard, and Samahl could not deny him either; he did care. He cared because he knew the pain that comes along with losing someone from someone else's negligence.

“I do…” a whisper of a response, but it was heard nonetheless.

“And that’s why Mama decided to do this…” Samahl looked up as the boy rested the basket by the rocks. “It’s some veggies from our garden. And a blanket she made,” he stood back, smiling. “I’ll….um….leave you now….enjoy!”

“Wait,” Samahl looked back to the boy as he tried to dash through the bushes, but stopped upon his command. Their eyes met again. “...Ma Serannas….”

The boy's eyes lit up, and his smile grew.

“Ma’re vhalla!” And just like that, he took off back up the hill towards his house, leaving a rather bewildered looking Samahl behind. He was speechless. He hardly expected him to understand the meaning of his words, let alone have the correct response. The boy….spoke elvhen….

Samahl smiled faintly before he continued with his bath.

 

Over the course of the next couple days, Samahl often got visits from the boy. Except this time, Samahl was far more accepting of the company than he had been in months. Approaching closer and closer to the home, only so his mother could check out her window to see him there -- the two of them just sitting in the grass, while the boy talked about all sorts of things. Samahl mostly listened, sharpening his daggers, or making adjustments to his staff. He let the boy hold it at one point -- his staff, not the blades. He laughed when asked for them.

“An accident waiting to happen, I assure you,” he would say, and the boy would pout, but at least he listened. He listened well, in fact. So well that Samahl began to notice the tiny changes in the boys steps as he walked along with him. These were things Samahl had mentioned to make his steps lighter -- it made hunting easier. And the boy? The boy taught him about the land. He knew every tree and flower; every rock and stream, and it helped Samahl to become more familiar with his current surroundings. Avoiding the templars and mages became easier, as well as the hunt.

“My names Anthony, by the way,” he finally said one evening as they walked back towards his home. Samahl planned on sharing some of the ram he had killed with the boys mother, since she had so kindly continued to share more of her vegetables. “But you can call me Toni. With an I,”

Samahl chuckled lightly.

“Alright, Toni. With an I,” he kept his gaze ahead, though a faint flicker of a smile lingered at the corners of his lips. “I am called Samahl,”   
“Samahl?” Toni looked up to him as they walked, brushing the red hair from his freckled face. “So that’s an Elven word, right? What does it mean?”   
There was a moment of silence as Samahl took the time he needed to prepare himself. His name held a meaning once upon a time. But now? It held little.

“Samahl means Laughter,” he explained. “It….used to hold more truth than it does now…”

The two of them fell into silence.

“Ir Abelas,” Toni whispered faintly. “I didn’t mean to….”   
“It’s okay, Toni. Sometimes it’s better to talk about things, instead of bottling them up,” Samahl looked to him, giving him that smile he seemed to hold back. “You don’t want to become a crotchety old man like me,”

The two of them laughed together.

And they stayed like this. Days turned into weeks, and Samahl grew more and more attached to the small family he had found in the hillsides of the Hinterlands. They were close enough to an Inquisition camp that it left them mildly protected from the Templars and Mages that roamed the countryside, but also far enough away to keep to themselves. Samahl enjoyed his time with the two. Not yet comfortable enough to step inside their humble little abode, however, he did stick around close enough to have small conversations with Toni’s mother.

She was a humble woman, whose golden eyes held pain that Samahl could understand. She had loved, and lost, and now was alone raising the boy with the red hair; the boy who would never be accepted amongst the other children. Though they seemed to fare well alone. Toni loved his mother, and she loved him. Samahl didn’t see any harm in keeping to themselves. It kept them safe. Or that’s what he thought.

He thought they would be safe. He thought they would always have him to protect them. He thought that -- even if he could not find the Herald -- that he could stay there forever. But forever came, and went in such a short time.

 

They came early one morn. Samahl had gone hunting on his own, wanting to surprise his new found family with something warm to eat for breakfast, but as Samahl stalked his prey, a scream echoed throughout the country side. It was faint, though resonated in Samahl’s ears; he recognized the voice, and without a second thought, he took off back towards home. The screams continued, pleas, and cries, angry and fearful. Samahl could hear others -- yelling, demands -- and his rage began to burn through him like lyrium.

“SAMAHL!” Elizabeth’s voice screamed through the rays of morning light, trying to reach him. He had always been so close. How could he have strayed so far from them? Why had he thought this to be a good idea?

“ELIZABETH! TONI!” He fade-stepped, attempting to reach them in time. He could see the smoke before he saw the fire. Screaming still echoing in his ears.

“ANTHONY! ANTHONY, NO! NO LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Elizabeth sobbed, her voice pleading, desperate. Samahl could not gain his footing fast enough.

All at once, he rose above the hillside to take in the scene before him.

The house -- completely ablaze -- surrounded by a small handful of templars. One of which held Elizabeth as she tried to break free from his grasp. Her body was bruised, naked, and barely covered by the sheet she held tightly to in one arm. The templar who had her in his grasp stood barely clad himself, leaving Samahl with little to imagine; they were here for one thing, and one thing only -- to destroy and rape. Samahl could barely imagine a templar doing much else, especially now.

But Anthony? Anthony was nowhere to be found. Even as Elizabeth scrambled to release herself from her capture, she screamed, reaching towards the home that continued to burn with no abandon. How had it happened?   
“The boys a mage!” one of them shouted, screaming as fire roared to life around him. The second templar came rushing from the house, completely ablaze, with a small Anthony behind him. His clothes were scorched, and the rage that grew within them both practically set the entire hillside aflame.

“Anthony!” Samahl zoomed forward, fade-stepping as close to the commotion as possible. The moment went from bad, to worse in seconds. Samahl had little time to respond as Elizabeth was thrown to the floor behind the templar, and he reached for his sword. Anthony -- frightened of what was going on, though fueled by the anger he felt -- stepped forward, attempting to leave the burning home.   
Samahl reached -- desperate to get there in time, and electricity shot out from his hand and struck the half-naked templar, freezing him in place. Anthony took a chance where he should have run, and attempted to light the templar on fire. Blood rushed forward, and Toni’s face contorted in surprised pain. The scream that emulated from Elizabeth was slow to form, as if time itself had begun to pause just for the elf.

Samahl’s entire body seemed to burst forth in rage. A second templar, stepping out from beside the house had caught the small mage boy off guard, driving his blade into his back, and clean out his chest.   
Samahl took little time as he came into the scene. With one hand, he shot back the second templar with a burst of energy that sprung to life from his own chest.   
The blade receded with him, and it with, Toni’s ability to stand.

Samahl whipped around as the other seemed to regain himself from the shock of his first attack, though moments too late. Samahl frosted him, and with one blade in his other hand, he drove it down deep into the man's head, shattering most of his upper torso.   
Samahl’s scream seemed silent as he whipped back around and fade-stepped completely through the second attacker, frosting him over.   
He brought the shield down and bashed Samahl across the head with it as he came at him, attempting to take the upper hand in the fight. Samahl’s world completely spun, tears prickling at his vision, and with it came a certain desperation he didn’t often feel -- hadn’t for a long time.

The blade was swift, slicing through armor to the skin, and he pulled forth the blood from his very veins. A scene just as shocking to witness by the templar as it was to be seen by Elizabeth. Samahl did not lock his gaze with hers, knowing full well how she viewed him now; he was a blood mage, an abomination, and could never be trusted.   
“Emma Shem’nan,” he hissed, the venom on his tongue almost tangible. “Ar tu na’din!” Fire burst forth, but was sent flying in another direction. The way Templars held their shield was effective in that instance, but Samahl had dealt with enough templars in his life to know a better course of action; the flames were only the distraction.

The shield moved just as the templar was about to bring down his blade upon Samahl, still knelt to the floor, blood pooling in his hands. The blood rose again, this time igniting a spark at his hip. His free hand pulled the hilt from his belt and the blade sprung to life, completely passing through the Templar, much like the sword had done through Toni.   
The Templar stilled, blade dropping to the ground first, before Samahl retracted the blade, and watched the body crumple down to the floor. The battle was over, but wounds still cut deep.

The roar of the fire crackled in his ears as he slowly hoisted himself up onto his feet. A hand upon the wound, he began to work his magic to close it as his honey-brown eyes gazed over to find Elizabeth cradling her son in her arms, sobbing.

“Ma da’lin,” her voice cracked, broken, as her hand gently caressed the hair from the boys face. His once vibrant baby-blues were dark now, unchanging.

 

With a shaky breath, Samahl closed his eyes as the sorrow began to seep back into his chest. It lingered there now, staining his very core with the bitter taste of guilt and anguish. He should have known something like this was going to happen. How could he have allowed himself to grow so attached in such a short time? Why was he cursed with this life? For as much as the small mage cared for those around him, the more he seemed to care, the more death occurred. He couldn’t escape it. And he cursed himself for even trying.

He should have left. He should have chased that boy back to his home, and threatened them both with his magic if they ever came too close again. But he didn’t. He had allowed himself to get comfortable, vulnerable; His last mistake.

 

Opening his eyes, Samahl used the last of the remaining blood to conjure up a cool wind, which he blew toward the house. Within moments the flames began to calm, and soon, they were completely gone. And with it, his strength to stand. Samahl allowed himself to drop to his knees, feeling utterly defeated. Again, he would have to bury someone he cared for. Again, he would be left alone. Again….He wished he never met them.

The tears pooled freely in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. Silent sobs wracking his chest as he allowed his lithe fingers to grip tightly to his arms, encasing his body in them. He leaned forward, placing his forehead against the dirt. He stayed like that for what seemed like hours.   
He only pulled himself up when he felt a hand place itself gently upon his shoulder.

Samahl’s head shot up, only to find Elizabeth there, knelt before him with Toni still laying in her lap as unmoving as stone.   
He couldn’t look her in the eye. Instead, he chose to stare at the ground below him.   
“Ir abelas,” he whispered. “I should have stayed closer...this wouldn’t have happened had I--”

“Stop it, Samahl,” her voice was stern, motherly, though cracked with every breath she took. “This wasn’t your fault…”   
“How do you know?” His eyes finally looked to hers, and what he found staring back at him seeped into every fiber of his being; emptiness.

“Because bad things happen to good people all the time, Samahl...You are not to blame….they are,” she didn’t even turn to look at the templar corpses beyond them. Instead, she gently placed her forehead to his, and pulled him into a light embrace. Samahl didn’t argue with her. Instead, he wrapped both his arms around her, and they stayed like that for a good long time, until words whispered softly into his ears. “What do the Dalish do with their fallen?”   
“We bury them….and plant a tree over their remains...so new life may come where they have fallen…”

She nodded lightly, looking down at Toni for the longest time before she held her boy close to her.

“We should….do that..then..”

Samahl nodded lightly, and then rose from his spot.

“Where do you want him?”   
Elizabeth stood up, cradling Toni in her arms as she gracefully strode through the garden and over to a small plot of land just behind the house. Samahl followed, pausing briefly as he rounded the corner and found himself staring down at the plot of land, already laying another there. The stones were aligned, with flowers placed gently at the front. He could read the inscription, and his eyes turned to stare at the woman who had -- not only was laying to rest her only child -- but had done so with the man who helped bring that boy into existence.   
  


“Maybe...they’re together now…” Elizabeth spoke softly, “Do you think your Falon’din would take my Toni to meet his father?” Her gaze turned to him and Samahl stood there, completely compromised by this knowledge, as the tears continued to form and press against his vision.

“Falon’din...means friend of the dead….I do not think he would deny your boy what he deserves…” she smiled, though hardly as radiant as it had been before.

“Thank you, Samahl…”   
Samahl nodded softly, looking around a moment, before he picked up the shovel and began to work the ground . It took well into the afternoon before Samahl could get a hole big enough for the lad. He cleaned him, dressed him, and Elizabeth gently laid her boy to rest there, in the dirt, and after she had a moment to see him last, she stood and stepped away from the plot, letting Samahl finish his work.

Instead of a tree, Elizabeth opted to have Toni’s favorite flower planted there -- Crystal Grace. Samahl did as asked, and planted the flower, leaving small bits of magic and water with it, before burying it all completely. He sat there, at the plot, for hours. He didn’t know what else he could do. With all his magic -- all that power -- he couldn’t bring them back; not his clan, his Toni. What was the point to this magic if it brought him nothing but grief and destruction?

 

Samahl stuck around for a couple more days. He burned the templar corpses, and began his attempts at restoring Elizabeth’s home for her. She took to laying in bed for most of the day, before making them something to eat. She cried often. But she just seemed to deteriorate as the days ticked on. She was alone now. Just as he was. And there was nothing Samahl could do to ease her suffering. He knew the pain of loss and loneliness. He knew how it killed you from the inside out. It was a Blight in its own. And it would take her life, just as much as he wished his would take him.

Samahl entered the home in the late afternoon after spending most of the morning replacing charred boards with new ones, only to discover an unmoving Elizabeth in her bed. He knew it. He knew what had happened before he even walked across the floor to her room. By the silence in the air, he knew. And upon further investigation, he found what he knew all along; Elizabeth had been poisoning herself. Slowly but surely, and now? Now the deed was done, and she would no longer suffer. But Samahl would suffer.

Samahl would scream and cry, selfishly tugging at the woman's clothes, and begging her to wake. Frost would begin growing in patches around him, digging deep into the wood as the pain did his chest. It was like his heart was being crushed, then ripped from him in such a violent manner it left him breathless.

He could do nothing else. He became angry in his moments of grief, throwing things about the house, screaming. He cursed his gods. He cursed the maker. He cursed templars, and mages, and humans, and his own bleeding heart. This was not the life he wanted for himself, but it seemed to be the only one that was available to him.

 

By moons light, Samahl carried Elizabeth’s body to the back. He had cleaned her, dressed her, and buried her beside Toni. For Elizabeth, he planted a tree. He prayed it would grow strong, and vibrant, just as she had been.

“Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky, hast’ning to place one last kiss upon your eye. Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber, softening the rolling thunder. Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense. During this, your last hour, only silence,” Samahl sat there, in silence a long moment before he drew in another broken breath. “O’ Falon’din, Lethanavir -- Friend of the dead, guide their feet, calm their souls, lead them to their rest….” with a final farewell, Samahl gathered his belongings, took very little in remembrance from their home, and he left it standing there, abandoned, broken, burnt and barely patched. This is what war left in its wake; death, destruction, madness, and sorrow that not even the gods could heal.

By dawn, Samahl was approaching one of the Inquisition camps. He cared not if they killed him on sight, in a way, he hoped they did. Perhaps then he could finally be free from the guilt-ridden pain that threatened to swallow his very being.

“Can I help you?” A voice called to him as he approached. With weary eyes, Samahl looked up to find another elf standing there. He wore simple clothes -- most likely had just woken up -- with dark hair, tanned skin, and striking features.

“I’m…looking for the Herald,” Samahl spoke softly, keeping his tone level, though he felt like he was crumbling at every seam.

The man smiled, though the smugness that held in his features spoke different.

“Speaking,” Samahl’s eyelid twitched. One of their own was the Herald of Andraste? Whatever. He didn’t have enough care to give at this point. “So, how can I help you?”   
“I want to help,” Samahl looked him dead into his eyes. “I want to help close the breach,”

There was a pause, and he took a moment to look Samahl over.

“Alright. I won’t turn away any extra hands,” he smiled, this time it was more charismatic than it had been before. “I’m Ghilas, by the way. What can I call you?”   
Samahl fell silent for a long moment, contemplating long and hard the answer he would return with. He finally returned the smile, though it seemed hollow.

“Anthony. But you can call me Toni. With an I.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, so getting around to making these little note things.  
> Thank you for reading the first chapter of my little fan fiction!
> 
> It really just started out as me trying to figure out why Samahl is known as Anthony (Toni),  
> and this is what happened. And then I just kept going. And I really enjoy writing for Ghilas.  
> I should probably make something for him too, that is in his perspective. Cause that man is interesting.  
> Very. It will be touched on in this Fanfic eventually? xD But not until like after the events in Trespasser. Most likely. 
> 
> Constructive Criticism is welcome!


	2. The Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's time to get allies to aid in closing the Breach._   
>  _Ghilas has -- logically -- chosen the Templars._   
>  _"What's the harm in powering up something we barely understand?" A lot, actually._   
>  _Enough to blow yourself up before the Breach is even closed properly._   
>  _So, Ghilas went the more conventional route._   
>  _But...Bran's a Templar....is he at Therinfal Redoubt?  
>  _So against all logic, Toni is going. He has to see for himself if Bran is there or not...has to help him if he can.__

Toni waited just outside the war room for the Herald while they discussed whom they would be seeking to help close the breach. He couldn’t say he was against the Mages, considering that’s what he was -- along with what he had seen and witnessed first hand from the templars -- but Toni had someone in the order he wished to protect, if he could.

After speaking to Ghilas, it seemed he would be trying to contact the Templars.

“Powering up something we barely understand? Such a good idea. Perhaps it would be best to contact the Templars. They could weaken the breach, leaving me not having to power up this anchor. What happens if doing so allows the anchor to become unstable again, and thus kill me before the Breach is even sealed?” So, Toni understood. He was in favor for this route anyhow. Just worked out to his advantage that Ghilas -- though choosing to confront the Templars about helping him seal the Breach -- was in support for mages and their freedom from the circle.

 

Toni rolled his eyes at Vivienne’s reaction to Ghilas’s admittance on this matter.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live in a circle that uses you, and treats you like you’re worthless. You have no idea what it’s like to deal with the plight they have. Now, I won’t admit to agreeing in their way of handling it, but you can only back an animal into a corner so much and threaten it, before it lashes out violently, and without thought,”

“Neither do you. Are you not Dalish? There are no circles among the Dalish,”

“No, there aren’t. Because we know how to handle our mages when not overwhelmed with them. If we had a more concrete home, than say wandering the countrysides hoping not to be attacked by you Shem, perhaps we’d have an easier time with it,” Toni hissed. “Not only that, but I have seen enough bloodshed and mindless evil from your so-called Protectors. I’d rather die than be placed in a circle, let alone forcibly turned Tranquil -- which is supposed to be used as a last resort, but has grown more and more widespread for simple things. But you never had to worry about Tranquility, have you, Grand Enchanter?” Needless to say, the conversation did not end well. And Toni and Vivienne ended up having to leave the discussion before actual fireballs were thrown. The woman had only seen the plush life. She didn’t know what she was talking about. She hadn’t seen their evil first hand like Toni had. She hadn’t been hunted like Toni had.   
  


Sitting upon a barrel in the Chantry, Toni waited, almost impatiently for Ghilas to return with news. Lelianna and Josephine both had attempted to contact noble houses who would stand beside the Herald while they went to speak with the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt. Perhaps then the Seeker would actually pay them a mind? Toni didn’t care what the Seeker thought. He and Cullen shared a like-mind for the man; they’ll have his Templars with or without his approval.

Ghilas stepped out of the war room, and Toni sat himself up, eager to hear of their next move. The other elf continued to grin charmingly, sauntering over to the elven apostate.   
“You’ll be happy to hear that we are, in fact, going to Therinfal Redoubt,” Ghilas spoke, still with a faint grin to his lips. “Josephine was successful. We’ll be leaving at dawn to Therinfal, to be greeted by the Orlesian houses whom will be accompanying us,”

Toni smiled faintly, glad to hear they were going.   
“Thank you, Ghilas. I do hope the Seeker will be less of a prude than he was when you first went to Orlais, but I will not be sad if we end up sweeping the Templars out from under his feet,” Toni slid himself off the barrel.   
Ghilas chuckled lightly.   
“Cullen too,” the two of them started towards the main door to the Chantry, heading out into Haven. “So, this friend of yours...Do you think he’s there?”   
“I’m honestly not sure if he is or not,” Toni admitted. “I haven’t seen him in some time. I spent...too long a time being angry…”   
Ghilas nodded.

“Understandably so. You are not the only one with...anger,” The two of them stepped out into the sunlight and Toni looked around. The Inquisition was small, but it was growing larger with each passing day. The Advisors were doing well with their jobs, and the Herald was just as Charming and Charismatic as ever. It was no surprise that many flocked to his feet. “So, once the Breach is sealed, where will you go?”

Toni shrugged lightly.

“I had no intended plan,” he explained.

“I see...then perhaps...you’d wish to stay?” The question brought Toni to turn his gaze and look back to Ghilas, eyebrow raised. “That is, if you want. There is more than enough room for you,”

“You want me to stay? And do what?”

“There is much to be done after the Breach is sealed, I assure you,” Ghilas chuckled, beginning to walk the path down towards the training grounds. Toni followed in step beside him. “We’re still not sure who even caused the Breach in the first place. And there is much to be done about the smaller rifts that have opened up all over Thedas and Orlais. I would appreciate your help,” his eyes moved to Toni, looking him over slowly, taking in every contour of his body. “And your company,” His golden eyes held their gaze with Toni’s honey-brown orbs. Toni shifted on his feet, unsure of how to proceed in this conversation. He wasn’t used to such attention.

“Ah,” Toni cleared his throat. Ghilas chuckled at his obvious shift. “I’ll see what happens,”

“I have made you uncomfortable,”

“I’m not...used to--”

“Someone being interested in you?”

“Openly showing it, anyhow,” Toni chuckled a bit and Ghilas continued to eye him.

“But you’re adorable. How could they not?”

Toni blinked. How many times had he heard that? Adorable. Sure, for his looks, but he didn’t know Toni -- or Samahl for that matter -- and they seemed like two separate entities now.

“I wouldn’t...call myself that, but sure, I’m pretty baby-faced,”

Ghilas laughed.

“Perhaps you will come to understand what others see in time...I hope to help,” he gave Toni a wink before they made it down to the main gate. “But for now, you relax. Get some rest, and tomorrow, we’ll see if that friend of yours is at Therinfal,” Ghilas opened the gate and stepped through, heading in the direction of the training field where Cullen and Cassandra were often found. He paused, turning upon the stairs and looked to Toni. “This friend of yours...is he more than just a friend?”

There was silence as Toni contemplated his response. Was Bran more than just a friend? Toni thought long and hard about that. Perhaps it wasn’t reciprocated -- especially after six years of being out of touch -- however, Toni had never -- not once -- stopped loving that man. Not once.

He nodded.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Even after all this time apart..he has always meant more to me than ‘just’ a friend,” Ghilas nodded lightly, and continued toward the training grounds. Toni, on the other hand, stood there a long moment before he went to his room. They would be leaving at Dawn. Toni wanted to prepare.

 

\---

 

When they arrived at Therinfal redoubt, the place was crawling with Orlesian nobles. Toni accompanied the Herald as a companion, alongside Cassandra and Blackwall. Perhaps if the Seeker wouldn’t listen to Ghilas, he could listen to Cassandra, or even Blackwall. Toni was simply an added extra; the Mage. He would do what he could to make it worth bringing him along.

Toni knew little in how to deal with Nobles, so he left that to the Herald, who seemed exceptionally gifted in such matters. For a Dalish elf, Ghilas was a far cry from their usual. He seemed right at home with a bunch of stuffy nobles, talking politics, and ignoring their inability to see anything for what it is, other than what it gained them. The second reclaiming of the Dales? Did Lord Abernache not realize he was speaking to someone of Dalish descent? Hell, there were TWO Dalish elves in the Herald’s group, along with an elven apostate -- though he stayed at Haven. Either way, the man was setting himself up to be stabbed. Or an arrow to the face. And Toni would have no problem in handling the blow if Ghilas did not.

“This is nonsense. The Lord Seeker should be thinking of ways to help stop the breach, not waiting up here in isolation,” Cassandra huffed, not thrilled with the nobles involvement either.

“You knew the Lord Seeker, any idea on why he’d be doing this?” Blackwall interjected, curious.

Cassandra shook her head as she spoke; “This is not like the Lord Seeker. Perhaps we will understand his motives when we speak with him. Which should be soon,” she looked around. “Hopefully the Herald will not take too long,”

“I think Ghilas is right at home with all these nobles,” Toni commented, earning a glance from the two warriors.

“It does seem like that, doesn’t it?”

“Who’d of thought; a Dalish elf comfortable around Orlesian nobility,” Blackwall chuckled a bit.

Toni shrugged.

“From what I gather, Ghilas was not always with his clan,” this earned another glance -- something they didn’t see, but Toni could. “I think something happened,”

“Oh? How can you tell? Other than this display here. Could it simply not be his training? He’s been working with Josephine and Lelianna since the beginning,”

“The way he moves; his gestures, mannerisms, and even the way he words himself says more. He’s…” Toni paused, trying to find the right words. “Boastful. He’s someone who enjoys showing off, and not in your average sense of the word. His flow is more geared towards humanity, than it is towards living out in the wilderness with a Clan,” Toni continued to watch Ghilas from afar as he spoke with Lord Abernache. “I suspect slavery. Tevinter. But I can’t be sure. He was probably recently reunited with his Clan just before the conclave,”

“You can see that?” Blackwall seemed stunned.

Toni shrugged.

“I’ve had a lot of time to simply...watch people,” his eyes moved to Blackwall. “You are able to read people better in a battle-setting, as you’ve had a lot of time to watch. However, I am more of a wisp in the crowd, ever moving, and there one moment and gone the next. I find secluded spots, and I wait, watching, planning; it helps in all forms of communication to know your enemy before they reveal themselves to you,”

“So, what does that mean about your position in the Inquisition?”

“I am an Elven apostate. I have been trained as a dual blade, and I will use my abilities to help the Inquisition seal the breach. When it is sealed, I am unsure of where I shall go from there. Ghilas wishes me to stay, and I will...contemplate the offer. However, I assure you, I have no qualms with any of you. You all seem like good people, and Ghilas seems a good judge of character,” Toni smiled. “I do hope he is right,”

“So, apparently, the Seeker has only decided to see us as of recent,” Ghilas informed as he strode over. “Lord Abernache tells me that he agreed to speak with me directly, even before the nobles arrived,”

“Perhaps the Lord Seeker is finally seeing reason,” Cassandra seemed to sigh in relief, though she was still tense. Something still seemed off. Toni could feel it in his very bones. But they would only find out after speaking with the Lord Seeker, wouldn’t they?

 

The stronghold that rose up towards the sky was a far cry from inviting upon first glance; tall stone walls that surrounded it, large wooden gates, and crawling with both Templars and Orlesian nobility -- definitely not a popular spot for Elven apostates. But in a way, the building held a strange elegance to it, draped in the Order’s heraldry. The musty red accented by the yellow sword-emblem seemed to bleed out against the grey, wet stone. At least Toni could say the place held some vegetation as it was surrounded by trees.

Toni followed Ghilas, ignoring more stares and conversations. Ghilas paused only briefly to explain to a Templar that he was, in fact, the Herald of Andraste. Though if Ghilas believed these claims himself, Toni was unsure. He very well could have been saying what these people wanted to hear.

They approached Knight-Templar Barris at the front of the main gate. Toni continued to look around, curious to see if he could spot Bran anywhere. Was he even there? He still didn’t know.

“I present Knight-Templar Ser Delrin Barris, second son of Bann Jevrin Barris of Ferelden,” the man turned his attention to Barris. “Ser Barris, may I be so honored as to present Lord Esmeral Abernache….?” the man seemed confused as Ghilas strode up, Barris completely ignored the formal introductions in order to talk with the Herold himself.

“I’m the one who sent word to Cullen. He said the Inquisition works to close this Breach in the Veil. I didn’t think you’d bring such...lofty company,” Toni could only hold back his chuckle. Ghilas smiled at the comment though. Abernache didn’t seem as thrilled by the lack of formal conversation. Toni rolled his eyes.   
“Barris….Moderate holdings, your family. And the second son?” he scoffed.

Toni wanted to say something, protest in some small fashion. To denote a man simply for his family, and not being so gracious to you and your ignorance? Toni knew there were more important things going on, and Barris also seemed to understand this.   
Barris barely seemed to take the comment. Good.   
“This...promise for status has garnered interest from the Lord Seeker. Beyond sense. The sky burns with magic, but he ignores all calls to action until your friends arrive,” now this was sending red flags in Toni’s direction. A templar should know his duty, whether or not supportive of the Chantry. Bran would know better. Toni was certain.

“Should the Seeker lead the templars this way?” Ghilas questioned, turning his gaze to Cassandra. She was the one who knew the Lord Seeker after all.

“In an emergency, if there’s no other recourse, but his goal should be to restore them to order,” she started.

“He has taken command. Permanently,” Barris explained.

This only fueled more confusion from Seeker Pentaghast.

“If he feels there is a holy mandate…”

“That is what the Lord Seeker claims, and our commanders parrot him,” Barris sighed. “The Lord Seeker’s actions make no sense. He promised to restore the Order’s honor, then marched us here to wait? Templars should know their duty, even when held from it,” Toni grinned. A Templar like Bran. It was good to see.

“A templar who remembers duty. I thought we’d never find one,” Blackwall commented, which sent snickers from the small elven apostate.

“Win over the Lord Seeker, and every able-bodied knight will help the Inquisition seal the Breach,”

Ghilas smiled; “That’s why the Inquisition came, Ser Barris,”

“I’d tell you your chances, but the officers are a mystery lately,” Barris admitted. “We’ve been asked to accept much, after that shameful display in Val Royeaux. Our truth changes on the hour,”

“Don’t keep your betters waiting, Barris,” Abernache decided to interrupt. “There’s important work for those born to it,”

Toni, again, wanted to make a snide remark. He didn’t care for this Lord Abernache. Nobles and their ‘I’m holier than thou’ attitude really was a turn off. But Barris turned on his heel and started into the courtyard. Everyone followed, with Toni trailing behind as he continued to look around at all the faces he could see. None of them jumped out of him. How would he even know what Bran looked like now? He almost laughed aloud. How could he not know Bran? He grew up with him. He’d know him. Toni was sure of it. It was hard not to not notice that man. Bran had always been an attractive sort. Very attractive. Overwhelmingly attractive, actually. Now that Toni had a moment to really think about it. Again, he almost laughed. Almost.

They entered the first courtyard; it was a simple sort; stone walls, open spaces, small fenced in training posts, and a tent or two stationed in the corners of the mildly green square; a couple bushes and a few trees kept the place from seeming dead, but still, the building held more to it than it seemed to tell. There was just more of it, no matter how much Toni tried to see up stairways, and over walls. This place was huge! How was he ever going to find Bran?

 

“The Lord Seeker has a….request before you meet him,” Ser Barris explained as they entered the courtyard. Toni gazed about the flags, curious as to what this request would be, and if it had anything to do with the strange flags hanging there on the stone walls. It seemed so, as Barris paused just before their respected mechanisms. “These are the Standards. An honored rite, centered on the people, the Maker, and the Order. The Lord Seeker asks that you perform the rite so he may see the order in which you honor them,”

“And if I fail?” Ghilas questioned, staring up at the flags with a mild look of irritation. His charm was beginning to wear. Perhaps he was too overwhelmed with charming the nobles AND the Lord Seeker.

“There’s no ‘correct’ answer. The ritual simply shows watchers who you are and what you value,” Barris explained.

“We’d be honored, if that’s what the Lord Seeker asks of the Inquisition,” At least Ghilas was attempting to continue being polite and political. Perhaps it was just Toni noticing how it seemed to beginning to grate on his nerves.

“Not the Inquisition,” Ser Barris turned to face Ghilas, earning Ghilas’s full attention. “The Lord Seeker changed everything to meet _you_. Not the Inquisition -- You. By name,” that certainly got Ghilas’s attention. So, the Lord Seeker was suddenly interested in the Herald, huh? That didn’t seem to make sense. Yes, Ghilas was charismatic and charming, and could probably talk you out of the clothes on your back, and your last silver -- but that wasn’t the point, was it? There was something else there; an ulterior motive.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He’s been fixated on you ever since your horde of nobles arrived,” Well that wasn’t reassuring. Even Ghilas made a face.

“The Lord Seeker makes us shuffle flags around? Refuse! Let’s meet the man already,” Lord Abernache was not a patient man, was he? Toni did not resist the urge to groan this time. His eyes fluttered, rolling lighting behind the lids, before he stared over at Ghilas. Either way, Toni would support the Herald. Even if Ghilas ended up choosing to come to Therinfal redoubt anyway, Toni appreciated the opportunity to look for Bran.

Ghilas looked to Lord Abernache, and then back to Ser Barris before he turned his gaze to the flags. Toni could only imagine what the other elf was thinking about. So many things that seemed to weigh on his consciousness all the time; what consequences would this hold if he chose not to? And if he chose to do the ritual?

After a long moment, Ghilas finally sighed.

“We’ll complete the ritual as the Lord Seeker requests,” though his answer was not what Lord Abernache wanted to hear, Toni could only smirk as he leaned back, crossed his arms, and waited for Ghilas to be done choosing. Abernache was not a patient man it seemed, and this was just the smallest bit of torture for the man. Everyone could agree it was the best option.

“When you’ve completed the rite, I’ll take you to him,”

Ghilas stepped forward, weighing what each flag ment, and deciding what flag he would raise first. It didn’t take him long, actually. Toni expected him to think longer on his options, but he immediately strode up to the ‘People’s flag, and raised it before he turned and raised the ‘Order’s flag, leaving Andraste’s flag last. Toni smiled. He would make a similar choice, if asked. It was always best to put your people first -- and in a sense, the Templars were part of that choice.

Ghilas turned to Ser Barris, and nodded.

“Traditionally, a participant in the rite now explains their choices to those assembled,” Barris explained. Ghilas took little time in replying.

“Those are my choices. The rest is my own affair,” Ghilas explained. Perhaps outright stating that he cared little for their Andraste, and more so for the people might not sound right coming from the ‘Herald of Andraste’. Toni could only imagine the stir that would bring upon the Inquisition. Ghilas chose his words wisely.

“It’s rather not!” Abernache seemed to disapprove. “I’ll not be shut out of an explanation these clods understand, if we’re bringing them to heel,” Toni could almost see the roll of Ghilas’s eyes, even if they didn’t move.

Ser Barris didn’t take the comment too lightly this time, but for the record, he handled the Lord better than Toni would have, if he were in either position.

“I suppose those are _your_ intentions,” which simply spoke volumes of the type of man Abernache was. He didn’t deserve the title of ‘Lord’, let alone anything else.

“My intent is to deal with people who matter. You helmed louts are wasting the Inquisition’s time-- and _my_ time. Unacceptable!”

“And we certainly wouldn’t want to do _that_ , now would we?” Toni muttered softly in Blackwall’s direction, earning a chuckle from the older man.

Barris sighed.

“The Lord Seeker awaits you both. Follow me,” and he turned and started towards one of the doors on the opposite side of the courtyard. Toni was thankful to have this mess coming to an end soon. He wanted to see if Bran was there, and simply walking around with the Herald wasn’t going to help him much.

They entered the room, and began to wait for the Lord Seeker. It seemed almost redundant to have him take so long when Abernache kept being an impatient little prick about the Templar’s ritual. It seemed to honor them, and their cause better. Or that’s what Toni thought. If you’re trying to gain someone's favor, then you want to respect them as much as possible. Abernache obviously didn’t care. But then again, the Templars themselves didn’t care for noble alliances. Toni didn’t either.

 

“It’s necessary, you know! You don’t run a battlefield by committee!” Abernache was running at the mouth; again.

“Without faith, you’ve no knights! You’ve…” everyone seemed distracted by the Knight-Captain entering the room. Toni felt a tingle of rage against his skin, and it prickled in response. He didn’t like this. Something was definitely off. “Knight-Captain?” Barris seemed confused.

“You were expecting the Lord Seeker. He sent me to die for you,” Knight-Captain Denam spoke, leaving Toni to look at him oddly. He didn’t like the way he felt around him. It was like all the magic in the room wisped around, warningly.

His gaze moved to Ghilas, who stood unmoving, strong, and yet on the defensive as the Knight-captain walked over to the desk with purpose.

“Knight-Captain! Lord Esmeral Abernache. Honored,” Abernache sauntered over to the Knight-Captain, closing distance between the two. Warning bells seemed to be going off in Toni’s mind. He wanted to reach over and pull Abernache away from him, but held his stance there. “It is not unlike the second dispersal of the reclaimed Dales,” Toni repressed the eyeroll, but only faintly. Had the moment not felt so tense, perhaps he would have allowed it to flicker there on his features longer than necessary. Now? Now he stayed alert. “No doubt rank puts you above such things. A pity more people don’t understand that,” His attention moved to Barris briefly.

 

Maker help him. Toni wanted to beat him over the head with his staff -- which he conveniently left back at Haven. He had Harritt whip something more complicated up for him, which was currently strapped to his arm, and covering his middle finger. It helped him hone in on his abilities more without needing a staff. It was something he had created over the years, and finally had someone with a steady enough hand to make it for him. Toni didn’t realize just how important that would be in the moments to come. He wasn’t expecting a fight. But it was coming, he could feel it in his bones; a storm was brewing. And Toni? He had unknowingly thrown himself into the middle of it.

The Knight-Captain scoffed, chuckling at Abernache.

“This is the grand alliance the Inquisition offers?” His eyes moved to Ghilas. Ghilas’s golden orbs stared back at the knight-captain, narrowing just the faintest. He could feel it too.

“Lord Abernache, it might be wise to give the knight-captain some distance,” Ghilas warned, though softly. Perhaps too softly, as Lord Abernache did nothing to head to Ghilas’s words.

“You’ve a silver tongue. I won’t let you claim the knight and his captain,” Toni groaned. This guy was a fucking idiot.

“Knight-Captain Denam?” Barris also seemed confused, and bothered by the tension in the air between this Knight-Captain and the Inquisition. It was like having a word at the tip of your tongue, but unable to remember; you knew it was there, somewhere, but it was barely reachable.

“The Lord Seeker had a plan, but the Herald ruined it by arriving with purpose. It sowed too much dissent,” and just like that, the mood went from bad to worse. Yelling could be heard all around them; fighting amongst the ranks. Something was happening, and it seemed the Inquisition showing up had moved it into motion before the Lord Seeker was prepared.   
Barris, alarmed, stepped forward.   
“Knight-Captain, I must know what’s going on!” Toni didn’t want to know, he was already ready to fight. Just barely a twitch away from casting a barrier.

“You were all supposed to be changed! Now we must purge the questioning Knights!” Toni didn’t like the sound of that. Changed? What about Bran? Where was Bran? Was he okay? Was he even there? Panic began to settle in his chest. He _needed_ to find him. More of the templars around the room began to step in closer. Toni was beginning to feel threatened, and he shifted on his feet, preparing for the battle to come.

While Lord Abernache seemed completely oblivious, that is, until it was too late.   
“For once, I agree with--” An arrow silenced Lord Abernache permanently, sending him tumbling to the floor. It happened all so quickly; the reddened Templars began killing the remaining templars in the room, and Toni’s entire chest swelled. His eyes moved to Ghilas for command.

He was now on edge, his body shifting into position as he reached for his daggers.

“The Elder One is coming. No one will leave Therinfal who is not stained red!” The knight-captain commanded.

“Maker’s breath!” Barris was shocked, but quickly raised his shield and sword for the battle. They would have to fight their way to the Lord Seeker and stop whatever was happening. Toni was ready. He cast the barrier around everyone in the room before the others had a chance to attack.   
Ghilas disappeared into shadow, while Cassandra and Blackwall took to attacking the red Templars.   
Toni revealed his magic in a quick blast of fire that roared to life from his palm, and caught one of the Templar-Archers off guard. Ghilas did quick work of him as he lept from shadow, and brought his twin-fangs down into the man's back.

Lighting bounced off his fingertips and ran through the body of one of the Templar-defenders, leaving him vulnerable to attack. Cassandra and Blackwall both took little time in ending him with a crack of one’s shield, and a swing of the others blade.

Barris took to fighting the Knight-Captain, which Toni tried his best to assist. Casting the barrier around the Knight commander, he attempted to freeze the knight-captain, only to be knocked back by one of the remaining Defenders.

Toni was flung back into the wall, his head colliding with the stone, and he sunk down to the ground, completely taken off guard. The world spun in colors of agonizing reds and browns.

“Toni!” Ghilas came to his aid, distracting the Templar with his blades.

Toni scrambled back to his feet, slipping into shadow for a brief moment as he regained his bearings. His head still swam, but he could hear the fighting all around him. He could barely see, but the red that seemed to glow around their enemies made it easier to pin-point who was friend and who was foe.

Toni cast his spell, freezing the Knight-Captain in place. With Barris and Ghilas both attacking, the Knight-Captain was quickly overcome. The fight was successful, but there was more to be had.   
“Is the Knight-Captain alive?” Ghilas questioned. Barris checked.

“Barely. If you use a healing elixir, he may survive. If he even deserves it,” Barris replied. Toni agreed. The man should have been left to die, but Ghilas had other ideas as he tossed a healing Elixir at Barris.

“We’ll heal him. Let’s judge the Knight-Captain after we find his master,” Ghilas’s tone was grave, unmerciful, and held a tone of rage that Toni did not often hear. It was like seeing a hint of something secret, just beyond the veil of Ghilas’s normal charismatic personality. It sent a shiver down his back, but at least Toni could say his vision was finally stabilizing.

“I agree. We’ve no idea what came over him,” Blackwall interjected.

“The Knight-Captain’s keys…” Barris pulled them off the man. “I would question the Lord Seeker about this ‘Elder one’,” Ghilas nodded, taking the keys and unlocking the door to the hall. There they found more of the Red Templars, and Ghilas disappeared back into shadows as Toni cast a barrier over the lot of them, attempting to get the Herald in there as well.

 

Stone encased them in the halls; an ambush. The Red Templars hoped to keep Ghilas -- the Herald -- within these walls where they could kill him, but they had other plans.

“These things -- traitors to their kin!” Blackwall seemed rather bothered by the Red Templars and what they were doing. Toni could admit to almost being upset. If Bran was somewhere in this mess, or even a Red Templar...Maker...Creators...Andraste -- whoever...he would need them.

“There aren’t many crimes worse,” Toni commented, freezing one of the Red Templars over before Cassandra slashed through him with her sword.

“Make them feel it!” Ghilas emerged from the shadows slashing through one of the remaining Red Templars, and stepping out of the way as Blackwall came charging through, slamming into the man with his shield, sending him into the wall the way Toni had been thrown earlier. Before the man even had a chance to regain himself, Ghilas was ending his life with a keen blade.

“This is madness,” Toni commented, looking around at all the death that laid in the wake of the Red Templars. Even servants and innocents were being slaughtered by these fiends. This wasn’t what the Templars stood for. And Toni was becoming increasingly worried about Bran.

“They are monstrous!” Cassandra was completely disgusted by the scene that was ever growing before them.

 

Ghilas entered each room, checking for innocents who needed to escape, but only finding the dead remains of them. Things were growing bleaker by the second, and Toni was more eager to find his friend.

The small group traveled up the stairs and out onto the battlements.

At first it was open, leaving Archers to attack from above the small shed leading into one of the dining halls. Trees helped block some view, and stone arches outlined the grounds there, but still, the place was vast. There was more to it than this, and Toni knew it. More Stairs. More Stone. More rooms to explore, and hopefully more Templars to find and save from the Red.

“Was that the Lord Seeker?” Ghilas questioned racing out into the fighting. More of the Red Templars were attempting to slaughter the others. Toni and the others seemed confused.

“Where? I do not hear anything,” Cassandra responded. Was Ghilas hearing something they couldn’t? Was it the mark? And if so, how could the Lord Seeker be speaking through it to Ghilas without the others hearing?

But they didn’t have time to ask questions. The Templars needed their help, and Toni cast another barrier around his friends before he began to fire from a distance, attacking archers first. Ghilas disappeared from the field briefly before he reappeared, leaping from the shadows and striking down one of the Red Templars. He barely missed the attack of a Templar, who seemed surprised to see the Herald there, but nodded his head briefly to him, before turning to fight on. It was horrific; Toni could only imagine what Bran was doing in a place like this, and how he could be fairing. What if he was a Red Templar? What if they had to end him in order to save him?

His spells became more wild, and uncontrolled, lighting fire to one of the trees near by. It snapped Toni back into his thoughts, freezing the blaze, before he fade-stepped through the field, freezing all in his path.

An arrow hit his shoulder, sending Toni back, almost knocking him off his feet. Pain roared through his chest, and he glared, fury burning in those whiskey eyes of his as they locked with the Red Templar who had shot him, and was preparing a second arrow.

Ghilas appeared behind him, grabbing hold of the man's head, and twisting it so that the snap of his neck resonated within the lingering roar of the fighting all around them. Toni nodded his head to the Herald before he turned his attention to the arrow. With a firm grip, Toni held his breath, and ripped the metal from his shoulder. He groaned, tossing the arrow aside. Pulling one of the healing elixirs from his hip, he took a quick swig and tossed the now empty bottle to the floor.

 

There was no time to pause; no time to catch their breathe. They went forth, killing Red Templars in their path, and saving those they could as they made their way towards the main hall. Ghilas, apparently led by the Lord Seeker’s voice, burned through red Templars with such a fury, that it almost seemed to spark around him. The tiny flashes of light were things that only Toni seemed to notice, as something akin to magic seemed to dance around Ghilas as he moved. Was Ghilas also a mage?

“The red stuff growing out of them -- that’s lyrium!” and there it was; the connection to the conclave, and what was beginning to come together. Whoever this ‘Elder one’ was, they were the reason why Red Lyrium was at the Conclave, and now it was infecting the Templars?

 _‘It’s Evil. Don’t touch it,’_ Varric had once told the Herald. Toni’s stomach practically rolled. He wanted to cry out, desperate to find the last remaining person whom he care for in this life, but he held himself in check. He was with Ghilas, and they needed to find the Lord Seeker and put a stop to this madness before Toni could go running off to find his friend -- if he was even there in the first place. But knowing Bran? He would have been curious as to why the Lord Seeker would abandon the Chantry, and march the Templars all the way here without a word as to what his intentions were. And with the Red Lyrium? Only more questions. Bran would have been the type to want to find the answers. This worried the Elven apostate; greatly.

 

They went up, and Ghilas seemed more determined than ever to find the Lord Seeker. Toni could only imagine what Ghilas was hearing the from the man. If he was using Red Lyrium in his Templars, then he was just as senile as Toni thought when he dismissed the Templars from Val Royeaux in the first place.

The Lord Seeker stood just before the Great Hall, back turned to the group as they made their way to the top. The building stood tall against the grey sky. Stone walls towered over them all, leaving Toni feeling small against its might. Proud, honorable; The Templar Order. The large structure sat upon the mountainside, just as firm as the day it was built. Ever since they arrived, Toni could not admit to ever feeling as if they were going down, but instead, forever going up. The fortress was built to house many, and it showed with its vastness. It was a worthy home for the Templars, had it been used properly. Instead, the Lord Seeker tainted its walls with red lyrium, and with the sky of grey above them, Toni felt a hint of sadness from the building itself, as if it mourned the loss of its purpose.

 

Ghilas led the charge, though he stayed cautious, and unsure of what was happening as they approached. The Seeker made no gesture to turn, which left Ghilas looking to Cassandra and his other companions, before he began stepping forward to meet with the man who was in charge of the slaughter below them. Even if they made it there, Toni could hear fighting still; the Red Templars were not defeated.

Without warning, the Lord Seeker whipped around, grabbing hold of of Ghilas’s garments and pulling him closer.   
“At last!” Words that would linger in the air longer than anticipated. Toni was poised, his body moving automatically as he prepared to cast a barrier around the Herald. In one moment, the barrier was cast, and the next, the doors to the main hall were blasting open with Ghilas standing there, completely still, but angry. Oh Creators, was he angry. The rage that burned from his very core was frightening; for a man who held so much charm, he could turn just as quickly as he pleased. Toni could see it then, just as clearly as he had earlier; the wisps of magic that danced about him, though controlled. The magic there was angry, just as he was.

A tall, lanky monstrosity flipped itself around, screeching in Ghilas’s direction. Ghilas only sneered, his fingers playing over his blades. He would be ready to strike if it attacked again. What had happened in that short period of time that left Ghilas so enraged? Toni didn’t know. He’d have to ask when they had a moment.

 

But just like that, the creature disappeared in a puff of smoke and hid itself behind the barrier. Toni did not need to be told what it was; Envy. Then the Lord Seeker was no more...or held elsewhere.

“The Lord Seeker!” Barris was just as shocked as the rest of his Templars. This was overwhelming for them. A demon controlling them through the ranks.

“No,” Ghilas’s voice was stern, rigid, and held venom. “An imposter,”

“That monster ensured we weren’t prepared. I still don’t know what we’re up against,” Barris admitted, his eyes scanning over the remaining Templars in the main hall.

“It’s an Envy Demon,” Ghilas had dropped all formalities by now. This was something personal. “And I need to know how to kill it,”

“Envy! Then the Lord Seeker…” Cassandra’s voice cracked only the faintest as everything began to piece itself together in her mind. Toni cared little for the man. Demon’s did not simply get control of anyone of that supposed will without reason; either the Lord Seeker invited the demon in, or he was too weak to contain him. That didn’t seem right to Toni; a Seeker was above a Templar, and went through special training. As Cassandra explained, their specific rituals keep them from being possessed in the first place.

 

Barris was silent. The truth was coming to light, and nobody wanted to hear it. He finally turned, looking to Cassandra first, then the floor, and finally to Ghilas. “Is caged or dead. Maker,” another sigh. “It used the Red Lyrium to corrupt the Order, didn’t it? I knew that miserable stuff was risky!” Toni’s gaze continued to falter between Barris, Ghilas, and the rest of the hall. He hadn’t seen any sign of Bran. Not even a whisper. Not a glance. Perhaps he wasn’t there at all? He prayed to Mythal he wasn’t there. “They often give us new kinds of Lyrium. Our commanders….some used the red stuff first, to prove it was harmless,” Barris explained. So that was how the Red Lyrium started amongst the Templars? The Envy demon -- posing as the Seeker - was corrupting them from the ranks, and down. A solid plan, however, perhaps not prepared for the Herald to show up and completely ruin their plans. “The knights would’ve been next. That demon turned our leaders so we couldn’t question when this started!” He was angry, frustrated -- he had every right to be. But Ghilas didn’t seem to have sympathy at the moment.

“Will you keep blaming yourself, or help me end this?” He growled, cracking his knuckles.

Barris was quiet for a moment before he turned to his fellow Templars.

“Templar!” He addressed some. “What is Envy!”

A few stepped forward.

“A coward, brother!” Was the first response.

“It studies, makes less mistakes. But most of all, it hides,” commented another.

Barris thought. What was the best action against such a beast?

“We need our Veterans,” he told Ghilas. “Our Commanders have turned, but the Lieutenants may still be fighting,” Lieutenants….what if Bran was one of them? “We’ll hold the Hall. You find the Lieutenants and the uncorrupted Lyrium stores. Bring them here, and I’ll give you Envy,” Controlled rage. It sent a shiver down Toni’s spine. “Show those things no mercy,”

 

Mercy: mer-cy

_Noun_

  1. compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.




At this point, Toni could tell that Ghilas had no mercy to give. He was on a mission, enraged by the attack upon himself, and what ever happened in his own mind seconds before the Envy demon was forced to reveal itself. Not a complete side of Ghilas, but there was a hint there that this -- this angry, bitter, merciless killer -- was the Ghilas that he knew more personally than the one he presented to the world. The way he switched so suddenly left Toni questioning whether this man was the right kind of man to be leading the Inquisition. What did he hope to gain as being the Herald of Andraste?

True, most of this he was sucked into, seeing as he was the man with the Mark, and was the only person alive who could seal the Breach, and its rifts, however...after that? Toni did not know. Another conversation to be saved for when things had calmed down, and they were in a more private setting.

 

For the moment, the Main Hall to Therinfal redoubt was filled with the last remaining Templars uncorrupted by the Red Lyrium. They were few in number, and with many more still fighting below, Toni worried for them. Fallen red brethren laid at their feet, corpses to be dealt with when the Red Templars were defeated, and Envy was slain.   
For a room so filled with death, Toni could not help but feel the hint of warmness that seeped in from the walls. High ceilings, stone columns, Templar heralds, and stained glass windows decorated the main Hall. Almost like Chantry in itself -- perhaps it had been used as such before hand? Toni had to remind himself that the Templar order was originally Andrastian, so of course their stronghold would have a Chantry feel to it. Even then, it was inviting...in a ‘I’m not completely finished with renovations, and Dead are kinda littering the floor’ sort of way. He made note of the stones lined up to be used in the upper halls; they were undergoing some sort of construction when this all started it seems.

  
Ghilas moved towards one of the lower barrick doors, and his companions followed without a second thought. Toni, however, took a brief moment to scan the room, his eyes hoping to land upon a familiar face.   
“Something wrong?” Barris questioned, and Toni turned his gaze to look at him.   
“Just….looking for a friend,” He gave the man a soft smile before he turned and followed after Ghilas and the others.

“Free to pass,” one the Templars spoke to Ghilas and company as they neared the door. “I hope you are what they say,” of course they did; if Ghilas was not, then they were all doomed.

So much was riding on Ghilas succeeding; he needed the Templars to help close the Breach. Ghilas needed to survive Therinfal in order to close the Breach -- he was the most important part of this puzzle, and unfortunately, it seemed as though all of that was beginning to wear on him. That could easily explain the shift in his mood; he was exhausted, stressed, and feeling the burden of having so many -- all of Thedas -- relying on him to save them all.

 

Therinfal Redoubt had much open space within those stone barriers. Even as Toni stepped out into the barracks, following after Ghilas and company, he was met with the same grey stone, watching as it opened up into mass of dirt and earth below. Out in the barracks, however, there was more of a hallway there -- covered in the same stone, and open with columns that allowed breeze. Doors to rooms unknown lined the hallway just ahead of them, and from there, the Red Templars seemed to emerge.

Toni’s barrier was cast before the first arrow flew, bouncing off the invisible shield, and flying off into the distance. Until that moment, they had only encountered Red Templars who still seemed somewhat human, but as this mass of formally-human flesh and lyrium stepped out into the open, Toni seemed to slack in shock.

“Mythal help them…” it was barely human anymore. With Red Lyrium growing out of its back. Toni watched in horror as this thing’s back moved, as if it was creating lyrium within itself before it began shooting out shards of the red lyrium at them. How could they have allowed themselves to get like this? How could they have even hidden that monstrosity from the rest of the Templars? How had they done thing? The Lyrium was so progressed that it had basically taken over. Who ever this ‘Elder one’ was, Toni had some choice words for him. This was no way to live, and it was disgusting to think that this person -- who, or what ever they ended up being -- was responsible for such hideous acts against nature. These people were gone -- beyond recognition, and beyond saving. That was the worst part of it.

With a quick flick of the wrist, Toni froze the horror in place, and Ghilas -- as if on cue -- lept out from shadow and shattered him with twin blades before he disappeared back from whence he came. It was for the best. But that didn’t mean that Toni enjoyed killing these men. He hated the idea that this was all they would be remembered for now; that their purpose had been corrupted beyond recognition; beyond redemption.

 

Moving up through the barracks, they found the first Lieutenant fighting off more of the Red Templars. Toni was thankful to see that the Lieutenants seemed free of Red Lyrium, and another barrier was cast to protect them all from the Horrors.

“Herald! You live!” The Lieutenant cried, joyful to see Ghilas and the others. It was always good to find reinforcements were there.

Toni took little time in shifting into Shadow, along with Ghilas, and slipping over to one of the Archers. Toni took them out with a slice of a blade, and fade-stepped into the battlements to help Cassandra and Blackwall. He was running low on mana and needed a moment to regain himself, so he pulled out the hilt of his blade and the small amount of magic caused it to spring to life. The Specialization was called ‘Knight Enchanter’, and had once been used by the Emerald Knights in Elven history. Toni had taken to this, and decided that would be the best route for him to go. He couldn’t exactly specialize in Blood magic without being hunted, or possibly completely swallowed up by it. There was only so much immersion that could happen safely before it became a problem, and Toni didn’t want to be consumed.

His blade hit shield, and the Red Templar defender protected himself well, but with two other warriors on either side of him, he was taken down quickly, leaving Toni with the finishing blow before he whipped around and froze the horror in place as it shot out shards of Red Lyrium.   
Cassandra and Blackwall were able to deflect the incoming attack with their shields, however, Toni was not as lucky. His barrier had dissipated moments before, and fire roared through his chest as the shards embedded themselves into his skin, penetrating his armor. He cried out in pain, bending forward to bring his hands to his chest.

“Anthony,” Cassandra seemed worried for him, and Toni tilted his head lightly to the side to see her there, shield out to make sure no other attack would hit the elven apostate.

“I’ll be alright, Cassandra,” Toni smiled faintly, though pain still pulsated through his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. He needed to remove the shards quickly, else they would begin growing in him, changing him; making him more like them.

 

Ghilas was there moments after slicing through the horror, and with Blackwall’s help, they slaughtered it into silence. He pulled a smaller blade from the side of his boot, and moved Toni’s hands out of the way before he sliced the small openings even more. Toni winced, but didn’t flinch away as Ghilas used that small incision to pull the shards from his chest. Their eyes locked, and in that moment it was like a flood of emotion washed through the apostate. He was seeing Ghilas through his own eyes, and the pain, and anger that lingered there smashed together like waves during a storm. Toni could understand that same pain; the bitterness that came along with losing all you loved and held dear. Ghilas knew that pain. He understood, and perhaps this was why he seemed to attach himself to Toni so willingly; they were the same -- familiar in their ways.

Again, Ghilas made a small incision, and he continued to pull the shards from Toni’s chest until none were left. He replaced the blade back to his boot, and handed a healing Elixir to him before he turned to face the Lieutenant.

“Thank you, Herald. What of the others?”

“Get to the hall. Barris will explain,” Ghilas spoke firmly, ready to find the next lieutenant.

“Fight well,” and he left, heading back towards the main hall. The sound of fighting seems to grow louder, and Cassandra looked back.

“I hear fighting. We should return to the Great hall,” and it was true, they probably should go back, but Ghilas didn’t listen. Instead, he traveled back down the stairs, and across to the other side of the upper barracks. There they found a second Lieutenant, fighting more Red Templars. It was frightening to think that all of these people seemed to be hiding in plain sight amongst their brothers.

It was hard to ignore the battle raging behind them in the hall. Ghilas was quick in dealing with the Red Templars, determined to make sure that the Lieutenants were not left defending themselves alone for too long, but also making sure to get back to the hall before more of the Templars fell.

“Herald! What is happening?”

“Just get to the great hall. We’ll meet you there,” Ghilas explained, and the Lieutenant nodded before heading towards the hall. Ghilas gathered up some of the Red Templars belongings, before he raced down the steps and through to the main hall.

 

When they came through the doors, the entire hall was under siege. The Red Templars had broken through, leaving the Templars to defend themselves. Ghilas disappeared into shadow. Cassandra and Blackwall raised their shields and drove further into battle, slicing down all enemies who came into their path, while Toni raced forward and climbed up one of the ladders.   
Standing upon the platform, he had an easier time casting simple spells, trying to weaken the enemies. With the pain still radiating from his chest, Toni was unsure if he was stable in his condition. But even with the Lieutenants, Toni felt as though more and more of the Red Templars continued to siege upon the main hall. His body screamed against his movements as he whipped around, throwing fireball, then frost, then a douse of electricity until all that was left were small bursts of mana. Sparks of electricity rained down from Toni’s fingers, running along his arms, before finally zaping his targets. Electricity was his natural element, it had always been his strongest, and the one that came to him the easiest. A bolt of lightning came down from the ceiling, striking one of the Red templars. The shock of the bolt kept him still, frozen in place while his body spasmed, before one of the other Templars cut him down where he stood. Even without casting, the electricity in the air was bending to Toni’s will. It made regaining his mana a lot easier. He refused to drink Lyrium. He knew the addictive nature of it, and the last thing Toni needed was an addiction to something he barely understood. Hell, it was something that if he touched raw, he’d die. He already danced with demons. The last thing he needed was to be out of his mind while doing it.

 

There were more Horror’s in the main hall then Toni would have liked, but they seemed to be taken out quickly with just how many Templars there were, plus Ghilas and his company. Cassandra and Blackwall were efficient in coming behind Ghilas and making sure that the Herald was protected at all costs. Toni was impressed. They were resilient to a fault. Toni would have to remember to attempt to become more friendly with them. He’d need the extra back up someday, he was sure of it. Perhaps him helping the Herald would make up for the little secret Toni was keeping to himself for as long as he could.

Once the immediate threat was taken out, Ghilas regrouped with Barris.

“What happened?” Ghilas questioned Barris, looking around to the bodies of Red Templars.

“Some broke through to siege the hall. More will come,”

“Protect the hall. I’ll retrieve your final Lieutenant and your uncorrupted Lyrium stores,” Ghilas put his blades back at his hips. “We’ll be back,” Ghilas nodded his head lightly to the man, before he turned to find Cassandra and Blackwall. His eyes moved across the battlements to where Toni currently was, sliding down one of the ladders and back onto the main floor.   
Ghilas quickly jogged over as Toni hit the floor, wincing. His chest still hurt.   
“Are you alright?” Ghilas questioned, attempting to hand yet another of his personal elixirs to him. Toni shook his head, refusing to take the potion.

“I’ll be fine, Ghilas,” He smiled lightly, though he was tired. “I’m just sore. It’ll be sore for a bit longer. But we have more important things to do,”

Ghilas nodded lightly, though he still seemed worried about his mage friend. It was a shy difference from his bitter anger from earlier, which seems to have slowly subsided into something more manageable for the elf. Toni couldn’t figure out if his being attacked had any weight on that shift. He wouldn’t think too much into it. Or he shouldn’t. Ghilas had already made his interests known, but it was simply physical, wasn’t it? It was. It had to be.

“Do you need a moment?” Ghilas questioned and Toni nodded.

“I do, but I’ll be alright,” Toni sat himself down a moment. “Just need a breather…”   
Ghilas nodded.

“We’ll wait a brief moment -- five minutes, and then we’ll head into the barracks,” Ghilas turned and looked to Cassandra and Blackwall. Everyone could use a break, even if they didn’t have a lot of time.

 

Five minutes came and went quickly. Toni was back on his feet, and feeling a little better than he had previously. The pause was good for him. Ghilas was thankful to have his mage backup and running at a decent speed. Toni wasn’t back up to one-hundred percent yet, but he’d get there. Eventually. For now he needed to focus on the task at hand. He’d be able to rest completely after they returned to Haven from Therinfal. If they returned to Haven. If not, then Toni would be resting in the Fade with Falon’din -- if he was lucky.

“We’ll find your last Lieutenant,” Ghilas spoke to Ser Barris, heading towards the upper barracks. “And your Lyrium,” He gave the man a quick side-smile, before opening the door. Cassandra and Blackwall followed after Ghilas, just as some more Templars came into the main hall. They had apparently been fighting the Red Templars outside, and had managed to make it up to the hall alive. It was a small group, and for a speck of a second, Toni thought he saw someone familiar. He paused, stretching up on his tip-toes to see, trying to peer around bodies to find that face he saw for just a flash of a second…

“Toni?” Toni turned and found Ghilas looking at him from the doorway. He motioned his head for him to follow. Toni reluctantly left the main hall, and followed after the Herald of Andraste.

Whether or not Toni actually believed Ghilas was saved from Andraste was an entirely different story. He didn’t know, honestly. Toni may have grown up on elven gods, but he could not say for sure that the Maker didn’t exist. Perhaps Andraste had delivered him from the fade? Who was Toni to say she did or did not? What ever helped people sleep at night; if they felt better praying to a God who never seems to listen, then let them pray. If they wished to honor elven gods, then let them. Life was far too short to care about trivial things such as that. But Toni could say that Ghilas seemed to be blessed by some God. He had the luck of a man with a God’s favor.

They passed through the upper barracks, and Toni cast a barrier around the group before they got to making short work of the Red Templars in their path.

Ghilas wanted to find the Lieutenant first, and so he searched the last door at the end of the courtyard first for the stairs, which thankfully they found. Racing up, they found the last Lieutenant barely fighting on against a small horde of the Horror’s.   
Toni cast another barrier, protecting the Lieutenant from anymore oncoming attacks while Ghilas disappeared into shadow.

Cassandra and Blackwall charged into battle, effectively taking out two of the four horrors there, while Ghilas took out an Archer.   
Toni took to electrifying the other two beasts, allowing the Lieutenant to gain the upper hand as the three of them closed in on the Horror’s. Fighting as a single unit was rather easy for them. Toni enjoyed how quickly they could accomplish their goals. However, the Envy demon would not be so easy.

“Maker! What happened to them?” The Lieutenant asked. Of course they would be upset; these people used to be their brothers and sisters. They were the Order all together, and now something -- and someone -- had corrupted them.

“Regroup with Barris in the main hall. He’ll explain the plan,” Ghilas informed the last Lieutenant and she nodded to him, thankful for their help.

“Good luck, Herald,” and she left, leaving the rest of them to look for the remaining Lyrium stores for them. They were needed to take down the barrier that was blocking Ghilas and them from taking on the Envy demon first.

 

They returned to the courtyard, and Ghilas continued to check rooms, stumbling upon one that left the group more worried than ever.

The room was littered with papers. Candles covered the desk, and a bust of Queen Celene stood firmly in the center, with a dagger through her face. Red eyes were painted onto the wall methodically, yet without order. Insanity brimmed in this room and Ghilas looked around, unsure of exactly what he was seeing in the first place.

Ghilas paused at the bust, watching something...or someone talk to him. Toni could barely notice him. All he could remember was...blond hair…

“The ‘Elder One’ picked quite a target. That’s the empress of Orlais,” Blackwall noted as he saw the bust.

“I wonder why this ‘Elder one’ wants her dead,” Ghilas questioned, sauntering around the table to look for more clues. He found some notes, but otherwise they were useless. “Come on, we need to find the Lyrium stores and get back to the main hall,”

They left the room and followed Ghilas to the last remaining door. He opened it and went inside. They found stores of Red Lyirum, and even red Lyrium growing out of the walls, but not the regular blue stuff.   
“There’s got to be some here somewhere,” Ghilas commented, heading up the stairs. He smiled when he spotted the box just across the room from him. “Here -- the untainted lyrium Barris told us about,” Blackwall helped him bring it down to the main floor.   
Ghilas paused at the Red Lyrium store.

“This must have been the lyrium the ‘Lord Seeker’ was using,”

“It seems to be the same kind of Lyrium we saw at the conclave,” Cassandra commented. “We need to figure out where it comes from,”

“And why it keeps showing up in different places,” Ghilas added, before they turned and left the room. “Come on. We should return to the Main Hall. They can get that stupid barrier down, and we can end this,” Ghilas cracked his knuckles, mentally preparing himself for the battle at hand. Envy would not go down easy.

 

When they returned to the Main hall, the Red Templars were sieging against them again. Ghilas growled, shifting through into Shadow to sneak up on one of the horrors. Blackwall placed the untainted Lyrium store down and charged into battle after Cassandra while Toni headed towards a higher elevation. He barriered his companions the best he could before he raced towards the ladders, only to be shot at by one of the Red Templars who had taken it. Toni growled, throwing a fireball, which caught him on fire, and before the Templar could put out the fires, he frosted them over. One of the Templars came in after, shattering the archer to pieces.

More Red Templars came. Toni needed to help. He needed to get in there.

He hesitated only briefly before fade-stepping into the thick of it all, bringing his Knight-Blade forward. He slashed through an archer, before whipping around and clashing swords with another Red Templar. He parried, taking a step back, only to swing his blade up, before freezing the man in place. He brought his blade down, shattering through.

Toni attempted to spin back around, deflecting an incoming attack, but it came far too quickly.

The blade sliced through armor, and to skin, ripping apart his side, and sending the elf to the ground in agony.

“ARGH!” Toni couldn’t even formulate proper words as the pain crashed through him, keeping him writhing upon the floor, bleeding out against the stone. Tears prickled at his vision as the Red Templar loomed over him, raising his blade to finish the job.   
“TONI!” Ghilas called over the battle, desperate to reach him in time, but knowing he would not. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to resort to Blood magic, but there was nothing else for Toni to do; it was either that, or die there in Therinfal without ever having seen Bran. Who, unbeknownst to him, plowed through the throng of Templars, shield up, and heading in his direction.

 

His dark green orbs held onto the elven apostate, that familiar face contorted in pain. The wound was fatal, if he was not treated quickly. He had seen the blow from across the battlements, and the shock and horror that rippled through him was unnerving. Samahl. It was Samahl. There was no doubt in his mind, even after their years apart, that this man was the boy he had grown with.

Those whiskey eyes he would always remember; the way they would stare into his eyes, gentle, calming, and full of wonder. Happiness seemed to pour from him like honey, and Bran was always glad to see him when he came to the chantry to visit. Even if Samahl had -- somehow -- snuck in. This was him. This was the boy -- who was now a man -- who had left him with nothing but a kiss, and a broken promise of returning.

Fear coursed through his very veins at the prospect of losing him now. It had to be him. It just had to be. Even if this Herald called him Toni. Toni? Where did he get that? That was Samahl. His name was Samahl. And he was about to be slaughtered on the floor of the main hall.   
His lip trembled, words threatening to escape -- to cry out his name, but were stilled by the scene before him as terror ripped through him and settled in the pit of his stomach.

His blood was pulled from the floor, swirling in cascades of putrid crimson, before swirling about the Red Templar. The Red Templar shook, his concentration on Samahl faltered, trying to keep himself from succumbing to the blood magic, but the elven mage was not inadept in blood magic. And it showed.

 

Toni pulled every ounce of strength he had to force his own blood up, and through the Red Templar. Taking control of a dead body was difficult enough, but a living body? Even harder. But Toni refused to die there. He refused. And with a shaky hand, he forced the blood inside the Templar, and like a snap, his body relaxed and sloppily turned on his heel before racing back into battle to stab through one of his Red brethren.

The elf gasped in pain, his body trembling as he continued to bleed out from the gaping gash in the side of his back. From the end of his shoulder blade, all the way down to his naval, Toni bled. He could barely swallow. The outlines of his vision blackening from blood lose. He was dying. He was still dying, and using what strength he had to control the Templar was draining him even faster.

But desperation was a powerful force, and Toni pushed himself up enough on the floor to pull one of the healing elixirs from his belt. He chugged it, quickly, and relief began to wash over him as the pain dulled, and he felt the skin upon his back touch, closing the gaping wound.

He was out of death’s reach -- for now.

Toni pushed himself up off the floor, almost slipping in the pool of blood he had left behind. Standing, weary and fatigued, he forced the mana through his fingers to light them, and he sent a fireball spinning out into the fight. The Red Templar he had control over was struck, and in moments of burning, he dropped to the ground, giving Toni some energy from the kill. It empowered him, rejuvenating him enough to continue on. They still had an Envy demon to defeat after all. Toni could not allow himself to rest now. Later.

The final Red Templar was slain, and Toni rejoined his comrades. Eyes were upon him, and he knew it. The topic would not be ignored. He didn’t expect it to be.

 

“What was that?” Barris stared Toni down, coming closer to him. He knew he had seen.

“It’s not important right now, Barris,” Ghilas’s tone darkened. “Once the Envy demon is dealt with, we will discuss the…” he paused, his eyes moving to Toni. “Issue at hand,”

Barris nodded once, understanding that time was not on their side. They needed to handle the threat as quickly as they could.

“Right,” Barris continued to stare at Toni a long moment before he turned to his Brothers and sisters. They needed to take down the barrier. “Keep them off us! We’ll break this beast!” Barris and the other Templars began towards the Barrier and Toni regrouped with Ghilas.

Ghilas wrapped his arm around Toni’s shoulder, bringing him closer to him. He whispered in his ear.

“You know,” Ghilas smiled. He was not bothered by the fact that Toni was a blood mage it seemed. “Next time, you should tell me you’re a blood mage before we decide to show off in front of the entire Templar Order, yeah?”   
Toni chuckled softly.

“Understood,” Ghilas grinned, happy to see Toni was alright.

“Good,” he pulled his blades out and prepared for the siege of Red Templars who would try to stop them from taking down the barrier.

 

Bran stood in the crowd, his green orbs scanning for Samahl. He wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him. But as Barris neared him, their eyes met. Bran had a job to do. Samahl was with the Herald, and Bran was a Templar; he had to help take the barrier down. The faster they did this, the faster the Herald could get rid of the Envy demon.

“Stal,” one of his brothers called for him and Bran hesitated only briefly before he turned and joined them. He took some of the Lyrium the Herald had retrieved, and prepared himself. They needed to take down that magical barrier.

“Get ready! They’re coming through!” Ghilas warned, spotting the Red Templars coming down into the main hall from the other side of the barrier.

Toni cast his own barrier around them, and Ghilas did his signature; he disappeared, only to strike from the shadows and hopefully catch a critical hit. They were so close. They couldn’t stop now. There was no turning back from this.

 

Wave after wave of Red Templars came through either side of the barrier, attempting to stop both the Herald, and the Templars from breaking through. Toni moved through the battle, fading in and out, and freezing anyone in his way. He tried to keep out of the thick of it the best he could. He was still sore, and Ghilas kept eyeing him funny if he got too close in the first place. He was worried. Toni had already been caught off guard before, and he had almost died because of it. Ghilas wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. But Toni was not going to simply step out of the fight just because he got hurt. He had people to protect. He had a job to do, and he wasn't about to abandon it now.

 

It didn't help that --at this moment in time-- he cared less for his well being than ever. He wanted to get the job done, and be useful, instead of dying there and being a burden upon the Herald. Ghilas had been kind enough to bring him instead of Solas. He wasn't about to make him regret that decision.

Clash of sword and shield rang throughout the hall. The echo of ice freezing to solid, and finally the shatter --as if glass. They fought on. And before Ghilas could raise his blades again, the barrier burst and faded to nothing. They were through.

"The beast! End it!" Barris called, and Ghilas didn't hesitate to start toward the open courtyard. Up the stairs and through the crumbling hall, Toni gasped faintly as he spotted the Breach just ahead of them, as if perfectly positioned. The green sky clashed against the grey stone, and the red of the stained glass windows and lyrium that grew all around.

Ghilas led the small group forward, his stride confident and controlled. That anger from earlier bled through with each sway of his body, and practically sparking from his fingers. Toni wondered briefly if anyone else could see them like he could. But he doubted it. Why? He didn't know.

 

The laugh that rang throughout the hall was taunting. This envy demon still kept the Lord Seekers voice, most likely to push buttons; it had fooled the Templars. He would kill the Herald and slaughter the remaining uncorrupted, and then wear the Heralds face. Ghilas ignored it’s attempt to get under his skin, striding down the steps and onto the open field surrounded by crumbled stone and dismantled ruin.

"I touched so much of you. But you are selfish in your glory. Now I am no one," the demon hissed, rising from the ground in front of the Herald. Ghilas watched it, taking a few steps away from the thing.

"Dark and desperate, death to keep yourself alive," a boy with blond hair stepped forward, a wisp of a man, and yet not one at all. "I used to be like you. I'm not anymore. You shouldn’t be, either,"

Envy cared not for the words spoken, and it took the opportunity to lash out at Ghilas, making the first move. Ghilas was quick on his feet, back flipping out of hands way, only to land on his feet, and disappear into shadow.   
The blond boy also disappeared, leaving Cassandra, Blackwall, and Toni to clash irons and spells with the beast. The two warriors dove right in, swords up and shields at the ready. Toni cast his barrier, and shocked the Envy demon briefly, trying to rip the strike of lightning through its entire body. It’s skin was tougher than Toni would have liked, but he kept at it.

Ghilas and Cole lept out of shadow in sync, slicing quick and deep into the Envy’s skin. It screeched, sending Ghilas and the others into a panicked frenzy.

A swift flick of the wrist and the Envy demon's screech was silenced as its body froze over.

Ghilas took little time in regaining himself, shaking his head lightly. He growled, his golden eyes narrowing as he came in and sliced through the ice, and again into the flesh of the demon.   
It shattered, but still, Envy was whole. It screeched out in anger, and slipped back into the earth much like a Terror did. Toni cast another barrier over the others, only to have Envy come up from under him, sending Toni onto his back.   
The pain shot up straight to his head. His vision swirled, and he groaned. The screech echoing in his ears was enough to make the apostate want to vomit. His head rang, aching, as if it were about to shatter, and then silence. He couldn’t hear a thing, and it sent him into a light panic, only to have Ghilas come over and lift him up and onto his feet. Ghilas patted his back, disappearing back into the darkness, and Toni shook off the panic. His hearing was returning and he cast another spell, fire shooting off from his fingertips.

Envy disappeared, and some of the Red Templars emerged from the sidelines, attacking.

“It’s trying to hide!” The blond explained, knowing how to read the Demon.

It hissed from the darkness, angry.

Ghilas slunk through the shadows, engaging with a Red Templar Archer before he leapt from the shadows and drove the blades deep into its back. The body dropped to the ground, and Ghilas took little time in dashing over to the others, slicing through the air and cutting down beyond armor.   
  


Ice sprang to life around the Red Templar, and Ghilas shattered it without a second thought.

The blond seemed to pull the demon from its hiding spot, but they hadn’t finished the Red Templars off. Toni focused on them while Ghilas turned tail and headed right for the demon. He was determined to end this. Cassandra and Blackwall followed the Herald, wanting to protect him as much as they could. Toni was able to take out the remaining two Templars without much of a problem as he fade-stepped across the battlements and brought his ethereal blade to life. Fire from one hand, and blade in another, the Templar came down.

Toni whipped around, and raced across the open courtyard to the last remaining Red Templar and struck a blow right through it. The blade receded into the hilt, and the Templar fell. Toni was able to turn his attention back to the Envy demon, and he felt the sky burst as electricity struck it. Naturally electricity was his element. It rained down upon his enemies even without him casting. He appreciated it, as if Nature was fighting along side him.

It’s shape had changed. Was that an Inquisition scout? Or supposed to be the Herald?

“I still know you, Lavellan!” It screeched in Ghilas’s voice. “I know all of you!”

Ghilas ignored the threats, knowing full well that the demon could never imitate him. Ghilas wouldn’t let that thing live to do so. “The Elder one promised you to me! Now no one will have you!”

Still, Ghilas was silent. He wasn’t going to respond, and be provoked by the demon. He had stayed silent, hiding himself away from the demon, which had frustrated him in the first place. And still, it did, as it continued to change shape, attempting to one-up the group. Especially the Herald.

 

The battle was proving harder than they had expected. Ghilas was injured, though still fighting. They were all exhausted, and it was beginning to show. Another screech left three of the group being knocked back, and out cold.   
Toni’s chest tensed, shocking the shit out of the Envy demon before he fade-stepped in closer to attack. It wouldn’t have the Herald. Toni would make sure Ghilas returned to Haven to close the Breach -- with or without him.

The beast turned and looked directly at him, leaving a shiver to run up his spine.   
“And you…..look at you….who are you?” Toni cast a barrier around his companions. “A blood mage…Close to the Herald…” It’s shape changed, and Toni froze. His mother. The damned thing had taken his mother’s shape. Bloody, battled, broken and dead.

“Samahl….what have you done?” The voice shot through him harder than any arrow ever could. Toni had to take a shaky breath in, trying to regain himself. He shook his head. It was just the demon. Don’t let it get the better of you.   
Its shape changed again, and this time, Bran stood before him.

“Maleficarum!” the familiar body moved toward him, sword at the ready and Toni’s heart practically shattered there. That is what he would see him as now, wouldn’t he? A Templar; Toni -- Samahl -- was a blood mage. And he would need to be dealt with.   
Toni shot the hand out first, ice slowing the body down before he came in, slamming his forehead against the others. The ice shattered, leaving the Envy demon to step back -- taken off guard.   
“That was for Mamae,” and with jump, Toni kicked the darn thing in the head, sending it to the ground, shifting out of Bran’s form. “And that’s for Bran!”

The Envy demon screeched, slipping back into the ground and Toni raced over. He had to help Ghilas. He gave him one of the healing Elixirs, and it helped him get up off the floor. Toni then revived the others, and whipped around just as the Envy demon started to emerge.   
He fade-stepped out of the way, and Ghilas flipped, landing in shadow.   
The Envy demon hadn’t gotten to either of them.

Toni took the time to shock it again, this time using more of his mana to rip through its being, leaving it frozen in place. Ghilas snuck in closer, preparing for the ending blow. They had to be close. It had to go down somehow.   
  
Another crack of ice as it froze over, and Ghilas leapt from shadows, twin fangs at the ready before he brought them down into the beast. Parts of it finally shattered from its being, and it screeched in pain. Before it had time to slink back into the earth to recover, Cassandra and Blackwall struck it down with their swords.   
Ghilas readied his blades again.   
“Fade take you!” he finally spoke and brought the blade down through the demon's head. The battle ended there. The Envy demon was finally slain.

Ghilas panted heavily, wiping sweat off his brow before he took another healing elixir. “Finally..”

“Are you alright, Herald?” Cassandra questioned, sheathing her sword.

Ghilas nodded.

“I am alright. How about you? Everyone alright?” His gaze moved to Blackwall, and then to Toni.

“Better now that that thing is dead,” Blackwall commented.

Toni walked over.

“I am alright,” or as alright as he was going to be. The Envy demon had struck a blow to him, emotionally, and he hadn’t been prepared for it.

Ghilas nodded, and they started back toward the main hall. As they reached the stairs, the remaining Templars came to meet them.

“The demon is dead. Andraste be praised; she shielded you from it’s touch,” Barris spoke, relieved to see Ghilas still standing. “We’ve numbers across Thedas, but we let this happen. Our Officers either failed to see it, or were complicit,” Ghilas stayed silent, listening. “The Templars are ready to hear what the Inquisition needs of us,” Ghilas stood there a long moment, his eyes moving from the Templars, and he turned to gaze at the Breach behind them. He turned back to look at the Templars.

“I know an Elf is not what you expected, but hear me. Listen to what I know in my heart,” Toni did not know if Ghilas was simply feeding them his words to get them to join, or if he believed. “I am the will of our lady manifest. I am the Herald of Andraste,” his stance was powerful, compelling. “She sent me to remind you of your sacred duty: A shield against dark magic. Knights who will end the Breach,” a shiver ran up Toni’s spine. Ghilas was a good public speaker. It was showing.   
Barris smiled, stepping forward.

“We will not deny our Lady’s will. Not anymore. But the Order is leaderless, gutted by betrayal. We must rebuild,” or disband and become part of the Inquisition. Toni looked to Ghilas. “And there is still the issue of your...friend here,” Barris’s eyes moved to Toni. Toni locked eyes with him.   
“Kill me if you must, but I am here to help the Herald close the Breach. If you lend your assistance, then when the threat is over, I will not deny any one of you your duty,” Ghilas looked at Toni, surprised. He hadn’t expected Toni to simply lay down his life.   
“Anthony…”   
“I cannot deny what I am. Or what I do. Yes, I used blood magic. Yes, I am at a higher risk of possession than most, and that is a threat. I understand that. I also understand what I’m actually doing,” his eyes moved back to Barris. “For almost ten years I have used blood magic. I do not use it for anything else but a last resort. It will not have me while the Breach remains. My will is stronger than that,”

“I can vouch for Toni. He’s been a wonderful help to the Inquisition, and until that moment, I had no idea he was capable of Blood magic in the first place. I do not fear him. I do not think he possessed. I have fought alongside him long before we came to Therinfal Redoubt. He is under my watch. I will take responsibility for him if he were to become possessed,” he smiled to Barris. “I understand your worry...and I appreciate it. But Toni is my companion; my friend. And I will keep him with me as long as I can,” there was silence a long moment before Barris nodded. “As for your Order….Your order is a symbol that holds the people's respect. That cannot die today,” Ghilas stepped forward, moving his golden orbs from Barris to the other remaining Templars. “We offer you an alliance! Supplies, Weapons, Grounds to Shelter you. All we ask is you help us close the Breach,”

Barris stepped up beside the Herald, looking to his fellow Templars.

“Do we take the Inquisition’s terms, brother’s and sisters?”

The response left Toni standing there, smiling as they all agreed, happy to serve the Inquisition and close the Breach. They believed he was their Herald. Toni was beginning to believe. There had to be something blessed about him; had to be.   
Barris turned to look at Ghilas. “The Templars will come. I hope your stronghold is ready,”

“Oh, don’t worry. I think we’re expecting company,” Ghilas teased, smiling. They were done. The threat of the Envy demon was over. They had their Templars. The Breach would be closed. Soon.

 

Toni smiled, thankful to have the Envy demon gone. The Templars were allied with the Inquisition, and the Breach would be closed. His whiskey eyes moved across the group of Templars, only to pause as they came into contact with familiar Dark green orbs. His heart stilled. Breath silenced. Bran….it was Bran...he...he had been there. The whole time he had been there, and he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t seen him. But there he was, standing in the crowd, staring at the elf in disbelief.

Toni’s body moved on it’s own as the first step came, then the second, and another, another, until he was running.

“Bran!” He cared not who saw. He cared not for the eyes that would be on them. The questions and murmurs that would come. He knew him. He knew Bran. That was his best friend; the man he loved, and nobody could change that.

Joy overwhelmed him as he wrapped his arms around the other, clinging to him as if he would be ripped away from him at any moment. Tears prickled his eyes, and he allowed them to fall freely.

“It’s you...It’s really you….” Bran whispered, arms wrapped tightly around the smaller. “But I thought…”   
“Ir Abelas, Ma falon,” Toni stood back, though still held to the other. Their eyes met. “I thought….I thought I was going to...but I didn’t...I’m so sorry…” Toni closed the distance again, just feeling the others warmth. “I didn’t want you to see me like that…...like this….but I am just glad you’re alright,” He smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. “The Envy demon would not have you...Neither the Red Lyrium…..Maker be praised...Mythal be praised -- I don’t care,” he chuckled, joy bubbling up in his chest so much so he could barely contain himself. Gentle hands placed themselves onto Bran’s cheeks, and he continued to smile, just thankful he was alive and well. “Ma Vhenan….I am so glad you are alright…” Bran said little, and instead he pulled Toni to him, and closed the distance between their lips. Toni was taken off guard, but he fell into the kiss as quickly as it had happened. Eyes closed and fingers curled within his vestments, pulling him closer in, and just breathing the other in. Magick sparked around his skin, gently flicking against the others, as if it were also happy to see him.

 

Toni could not tell you how long they stood there, embraced, and interlocked, but as they pulled away -- both breathless -- they smiled to one another. Toni’s grin wide, familiar, and he couldn’t help the light chuckle that escaped. He hadn’t expected such a greeting, but he was glad for it.

“Samahl….” Bran whispered softly, and the name shot daggers through to his heart. Toni simply placed his forehead to Bran’s.   
“...Ir abelas….I go by Toni now…” his eyes looked into Bran’s. “...The other is...too painful…” Bran, understanding, nodded lightly, still holding the elven male to him. He understood. Samahl-- Toni had lost his entire clan. Had resorted to blood magic, and Bran had no idea what other pains he had faced since they were separated. He suspected many, by the way his eyes seemed to cry, though they held no tears. Bran would have to remedy this as much as he could. He would try to fix what had been broken. They were together now. And Bran would make sure they never parted again.

 

And they would return to Haven together. Bran an honorary companion of the Herald’s, or so it was told. He came ahead of the other Templars, only to keep close eyes on the ‘maleficarum’, or that is what the report would say when Bran wrote one up later for Barris.

For now, the Herald needed to report back to his advisors, and he took Toni with them. Cassandra was adamant on making sure that Toni was with them all; they had things to discuss with the others. Toni wished he could simply avoid the conversation, but it was bound to happen eventually. Might as well get it over with. And at least when they were done, he could return to Bran’s side.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you got all the way down here, I hope you enjoyed it.   
> Cause good god I suck at writing fighting scenes. 
> 
> Constructive Criticism is welcome!   
> I hope you enjoyed this. I'm mostly just writing this cause I want to.   
> This chapter was only mildly edited, so I apologize if its not perfect. (Cause I know it ain't.) 
> 
> Hopefully I can get my muse to kick my motivation and get chapter 3 finished. Soon.


	3. In your heart shall burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time to close the Breach.  
> With the heavens calmed, there can only be one thing left to do; Celebrate!  
> Or that is what was supposed to happen.  
> Instead we get a grumpy Herald and some creepy Blighted - what the fuck is that thing!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read through it this morning, and didn't change much around.  
> So in actuality its kinda 'unedited'. I apologize. xD Mostly just doing this for fun.  
> Constructive Criticism is welcome!

Returning to Haven was a relief. The Envy demon was defeated, and the Templars would be arriving at Haven any day now. This left the Herald to enjoy his triumph, or that's what Toni had thought. Instead, Ghilas ended up being reprimanded when he returned to Haven by his advisors, who -of course- had to bring up Toni's blood magic. 

“Herald, you cannot be seriously thinking of letting this maleficarum stay with the Inquisition,” Cassandra started. Ghilas simply stood there, hands on his hips and as irritable as ever. 

“I most certainly do. Toni has been nothing but an asset to the Inquisition, and I will not simply kick him out because you all are afraid of a little blood magic,” Ghilas hissed. “We have plenty of Templars if there is to be a problem -- which I highly doubt there will be. If he has managed to keep his secret for as long as he has  _ without _ incident, then it should be fine. Just because we are aware of it now does not change the fact that he is capable of controlling himself,

“If I must be his personal guard from possession, then so be it. He put himself at risk in that hall because he wanted to help; to continue to help, and serve the Inquisition. And I will not reprimand him for that. Keeping it a secret from me, however, I  _ will _ ,” Ghilas turned and looked to Toni. 

“And had I said anything at first, would it have done any good?” Toni growled. “Considering the fact that one of your advisors very well might want to strike me down where I stand is reason enough to understand why I wouldn’t be so open about that kind of information. That would have gone over so well, wouldn’t it? ‘Oh! By the way, Herald, I’m a blood mage!’ Yeah, that doesn’t warrant an immediate attack normally,” sarcasm dripped off his tongue. 

“I certainly wouldn’t have,”    
“And how in the fade was I supposed to know you’re not murderously against it, hm? It’s not tattooed across your forehead for everyone to see. Is it in the fine print of the rite from the Divine? Cause I certainly didn’t have the pleasure of reading that when I joined,

“I’m here to help. I’m not using my blood magic often. It...has only been used as a drastic measure, and I have NEVER made a deal with a demon. Not to mention, it’s always MY blood I end up using. Either that, or the blood of fallen enemies. Never an ally,” Toni shook his head, sighing. “I don’t expect you to accept it, let alone understand. But I am not going to simply roll over and be possessed. Yes, I am at a higher risk. I get it. It’s frightening. An abomination with my kind of power would be formidable; but that is the point -- I want to help the people. Not threaten them. Becoming an abomination goes against everything I personally stand for, or believe. And if it is a weak will that brings Mages to succumb to demons, then be rest assured that I am not. And I would never allow it to happen. I’d kill myself first,” 

 

Silence rang in his ears for a long moment before Ghilas turned his attention back to his advisors. 

“You heard the man. I don’t want to hear another word about it. We need to focus on what happened with the Templars,” Ghilas looked to Cassandra. 

"Officers betraying their soldiers, Templars without Leaders, a demon imitating the Lord Seeker.." Cassandra was furious. “We should have taken them to task, the crimes they committed-” 

“Were committed by their officers. The Soldier’s of the Order will serve,” Cullen interjected. 

“These crimes put them at our mercy. Yet the terms of this alliance do not benefit the Inquisition as it should,” Lelianna added. “You should have consulted us, Herald,”

"We still need to prepare for them," Ghilas explained, his tone more irritable. "I have contacts in the Lyrium trade," he snorted lightly. “Regular lyrium,” That was Ghilas; always looking for ways to benefit them -- or more so him. So even if nobody else saw the alliance as a fitting agreement, then Ghilas was looking at a bigger picture. 

“If you’d be so kind as to put me in touch with them, I’ll secure funding. How many Templars are expected?” Josephine was on it. 

“A few dozen veterans are coming ahead of the rest, to help seal the breach,” Lelianna informed. 

“How soon until these veterans arrive?” Ghilas questioned, arms crossed. He was still mildly irritated about the whole thing; whenever he risked his life, Ghilas became irritable. The poor man was starting to probably feel like a giant pinata. Except his insides probably weren’t filled with Candy..

 

A puff of smoke, and suddenly Cole was knelt on the war table, visible for everyone to see. It startled everyone, including Toni. 

“They’re almost here. Templars do not like to be late,” he explained, curiously looking at one of the markers in his hands. 

“Maker!” 

Ghilas shifted, immediately stepping forward as Cassandra and Cullen both pulled out their swords, preparing to fight this  _ thing _ . What  _ was _ Cole, exactly? Toni could only imagine he was a spirit. Of some kind. 

“Wait!” Ghilas stopped Cassandra and Cullen both from hurting Cole. 

“I came with you to help. I would have told you before, but you were busy,” Cole explained. Ghilas sighed deeply, the tension in his movements apparent. 

“Get off the war table, Cole.  _ Now _ ,” The Herald demanded. 

“Yes. I don’t belong here. I am not a war,” Cole slipped off the table with ease, leaving the blood mage to chuckle lightly at the comment. He liked Cole. Spirits could make good friends, if you let them. Or they weren’t corrupted. Solas and Toni often had talks about the Fade and other such wonders. They had little differences in their opinions on spirits and the like. It was nice to have someone to talk to; someone so experienced in things Toni still did not understand, but longed to. 

“Call the guards. This creature is not what you --” 

“A moment please, Cassandra,” Lelianna interrupted. “I’d like to hear why he came,” 

“You help people,” Cole addressed Ghilas. “You made them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I can help,” 

“Cole saved my life in Therinfal. I couldn’t have defeated Envy without him,” the look on Cassandra’s face spoke volumes about how much she approved of the idea that Cole was staying. 

“But what does he want  _ now _ ?” Cassandra was expecting something else, that was for sure. The Chantry taught people to fear spirits and demons, as if they were one thing. It was different. Cole was different, even Toni couldn’t put his finger on how Cole was different, but he was. And he wasn’t dangerous; not to them. He wanted to help. 

“To help,” Toni interjected. “He said so himself,” 

“I think he really is trying to help,” Ghilas’s tone was softer now. Falling back into his usual. 

“I won’t be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to,” Cole spoke, looking up at Ghilas. 

“You’re not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?” Cullen added. 

“Not freely, perhaps, but it seems a waste to -- hold on,” Cole was gone. Josephine was left unable to finish her sentence. “Where did he go?” 

“It’s a good trick. You’ll get used to it,” Ghilas chuckled lightly. 

Lelianna seemed to like it. She smiled. 

“We must see if he can teach it to anyone else,” wouldn’t that be an advantage to her scouts if he could? “I’ll have people watch the boy, but let’s not be distracted from the Breach,” 

“We’ll need your help when the Templar veterans arrive. Take time to prepare while you can,” Cullen nodded his head, and the meeting was adjourned. Toni was thankful. He left the war room in a hurry, and Ghilas followed suit.    
“Anthony!” Toni came to a slow stop before he turned and looked to the Herald. “I….wanted to apologize,” Toni stood there a long moment as Ghilas found the words. “I didn’t want to put you in the spot-light like that, but I couldn’t just….ignore it--” 

“Just stop, Ghilas. We finished it. There is nothing more to add to it. If you’re fine with me as I am, then there is nothing I am worried about in those regards,” it would be a lie if Toni said he wasn’t expecting someone to ‘take him out’; one of Lelianna’s people, probably. Something that looked like an accident, or an attack from the enemy. It would also be a lie to say he wasn’t hoping for it. 

Even with Bran back, Toni could not erase the pain that coursed through him every day like thorns through his veins. He hurt. He was tired. But instead of showing it, he simply smiled to the Herald, and continued on his way. 

 

“How did it go?” Bran questioned, standing as Toni reentered his room, finding the other there. Toni blinked a moment, not really expecting him to be there when he returned. Toni smiled reassuringly. 

“Aside the fact that I am positive two out of four Advisors wish me dead, or at the very least not here, it went well,” Toni chuckled as he sauntered across the room and sat himself down on his desk beside where Bran stood. “The Lieutenants will be arriving shortly, and the Herald will assault the Breach. Hopefully this thing will be done by tomorrow,” Toni sighed happily at the prospect of the Breach being closed. With all those spirits being forced through the rifts...it made things doubly chaotic. “So everything is calm. For now. However, I would not be surprised if I wound up dead sometime in the near future,” Toni tried to laugh it off, but Bran was obviously not amused as his brows furrowed. It wasn’t like Samahl to joke about something so dark and twisted, but the world had obviously changed him. He went by Toni now...

"They would have to get through me first," Bran practically growled. He moved so that he stood in front of him, placing his hands at Toni's sides on the desk. Toni smiled, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. 

"I would prefer if they didn't go through you, I happen to be fond, and I would like to at least die knowing someone wasn't my fault," there was silence, as Bran stared back into Toni's eyes. There was so much he didn't know. So much he had gone through before they were united again. He wanted to know, but wasn't sure how to ask. 

"Sa-" Bran stopped himself. "Toni..." Another pause as his hand reached up and gently cupped Toni's cheek. 

 

Toni smiled, leaning into the touch and gently held onto the others arm. He had missed him. He also wasn't sure he expected such a reunion. Toni had left with their first kiss, and a broken promise to return. Years went by and no contact. Toni half expected Bran to be furious with him, not still...could he say love? Toni wasn't certain, but he did know that he loved Bran. This was better than expected, and he thanked the gods for it. 

"I apologize...I shouldn't talk like that," Toni smiled. "I'll try not to," 

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault you feel that way," 

"Ah, but it is. But we can save that argument for another day," he chuckled lightly as Bran leaned in and silenced him with a kiss. It was soft at first, gentle, but as Toni leaned in to taste him better, their touch intensified. Magick rippled across his skin, and Toni ran his lithe fingers up the others chest, feeling the contours of his body just under his shirt before they snaked back behind his neck, and up through his hair. Those same fingers gripped lightly, mouth opening and their tongues fought for dominance. 

 

A soft moan left Toni’s mouth, muffled against the others, and he could feel Bran’s strong hands kneading circles into his thighs, slowly running up, closer, and closer, until they slid back under him. 

A firm grip brought Toni against the other, leaving little room between the two of them. Toni pulled away to catch his breath, but was barely left any time to do so before Bran crashed their lips together again. He could feel the vibration of the other as he moaned into his touch. Toni enjoyed it, sending shivers down his spine at the very sound, leaving him to want to elicit it again from the other. With knees on either side of Bran’s hips, Toni took to using his foot to gently caress his inner thighs. He about chuckled as Bran moaned a second time, and he managed to laugh as Bran pulled away from them, only to see what he was doing as he lifted Toni up off the desk and dropped him onto the bed.    
An eager hand slid under Toni’s shirt, pulling it up as he guided his fingertips to his collarbone. His mouth was hot as he brought it down against the skin at his naval. He left nips in his wake, traveling up and up until he reached his chest. Bran took little time in encasing one of Toni’s nipples with his mouth, and Toni arched, moaning soft. Hands grabbed at anything he could touch, choosing to grip Bran’s hair. 

Mouths found one another again and Toni found himself swimming in the very scent of the other. Bran knelt over him, completely in control of the elven apostate before the smaller began to chuckle under him, as if tickled.    
Bran pulled away briefly as Toni laughed, the red in his cheeks apparent against the light color of his skin.    
“I’m sorry…” Toni spoke between chuckles. “We…” Toni sighed, happily, and stared up at the other, who seemed confused.    
“Something wrong?” 

“Not wrong….” Toni admitted, smiling still. “Just timing is a bit...off,” Toni sat up on his elbows. “We should wait...until after the Breach is closed. Because I just know that the moment we get clothes off and it starts getting really good, Ghilas or someone is going to knock and want me to help the Herald assault the Breach,” Toni chuckled, gently kissing the other. “We’ll celebrate at another time...alright?” 

The grunt that Bran gave in response was one of obvious displeasure, but he wouldn’t argue with Toni. He had a point. Didn’t mean he liked it, but it was true. Ghilas -- unfortunately -- seemed rather fond of Toni. Which meant he brought him to many outings. Bran would have to figure out if he could join the Herald’s companions or not, seeing as he had personally made himself Toni’s guardian. It would keep tensions lowered between the Templars and the apostate. Bran would keep him safe, and he’d keep an eye on this Herald.

 

Toni laid there under Bran for a moment before he reached up and managed to pull the other down onto the bed beside him. He chuckled lightly as he watched Toni crawl up next to him and just lay himself down-- half on him and half on the bed.

"I would not be against a nap though," Toni admitted. Bran laughed. 

"Of course you wouldn't. Have you slept much since Therinfal?" Toni pursed his lips in thought, then grinned.

"Nope!" They both laughed, but got comfortable there. Bran could hold Toni in his arms for now. It may not have been the particular act of passion he wanted to express to Toni, but there would be another time. Perhaps even another place. He needed his rest. Bran could tell Toni wasn't sleeping well. The Envy demon had bothered him greatly. Or that is what Toni had told him when asked. Bran wasn't so sure that was the problem. 

 

Sleep came quickly for the elven apostate. One moment he was awake, eyes shut and simply talking with Bran, and the next he was silent, and vulnerable. Comfortable in the others arms, he felt safe and secure for the first time in years. Bran didn't mind. He stayed there, attempting to join him in dreamland, but as he slipped in and out of consciousness, there was a knock on the door. 

Bran was awake. 

"Yes?" 

There was silence for a moment, which almost had Bran sitting up before the person spoke. 

"It's the Herald. I'm here for Anthony. The Lieutenants are here and we're ready to assault the Breach," Bran smirked lightly at the hint of irritation in Ghilas's voice. He was fond of Toni, and wasn't too thrilled with Bran's immediate intrusion. Toni seemed more enthralled with him than his Herald. And that was bothersome to the other elf.

 

"I'll wake him. He'll meet you at the Chantry in a moment," Bran couldn't help the smirk on his lips as the other huffed, but left with a quick ‘Thank you’. For a man who could talk, if he became jealous it seemed that charisma left him. Bran would use that to his advantage later. 

For the moment he looked down to the sleeping elf, half his body curled into Brans warmth. He smiled. It was an act against Andraste to wake him, but he was needed. 

Bran reached down with a gentle hand and placed it upon Toni's back. He had planned to wake him tenderly, but the moment his palm touched Toni's skin, his whiskey eyes snapped open. It took him a moment to realize where he was at, and in that moment, Bran could feel the warmth of Toni's skin radiate. He was preparing for an attack, but nothing came. Toni sighed deeply, slowly raising himself from the bed and he sat there on his knees, rubbing his eyes. 

"I didn't mean to startle you," Bran spoke, barely above a whisper. 

"It's alright. I haven't had company in a long while," he admitted. "Are they ready?" 

Bran nodded. 

"I told Ghilas you would meet him at the Chantry," Toni nodded, yawning. He could have gone back to sleep and slept till the very next day, but he wouldn't. He had a job to do. 

Begrudgingly, Toni slipped off the bed and onto his feet. He shivered lightly at the cool ground against his bare toes. 

"The Dalish need warmer shoes," he muttered to himself, causing Bran to chuckle. This was Fereldan after all. Of course it would be cold. 

"You grew up in this," Bran reminded him.

"Yeah, and I said it to Mamae all the time," Toni turned, giving him a smile. "You coming too?"

"Wouldn't miss it.” 

 

\----

 

This was the first time Toni had been so close to the Breach. He had taken walks up to the Conclave, but hadn’t gone inside. The feel of death and betrayal there left his skin prickling against the thinned veil. It made the apostate uneasy to actually continue in closer to the monstrosity that tore open the sky. His connection to the fade was already intense, leaving him vulnerable against possession, but Toni wouldn’t falter. Not now. Ghilas needed him; Fereldan needed him. And that was enough to keep Toni from turning back and running when he wanted to.    
Instead, he held tightly to Bran’s hand as they continued down into the conclave with the Lieutenants. Cassandra and some Inquisition soldiers followed and began to set up. The Templar Lieutenants -- Bran included by the way -- readied themselves to assault the Breach, leaving Toni to stand beside Ghilas, alongside with Solas and Cassandra. 

Toni stared up to the giant hole in the sky, and with bated breath, they began. 

“Templars!” Cassandra’s voice rose above the sound of the Breach. 

“Focus past the Herald,” Solas began. “Let his will draw from you,” Toni watched as Ghilas started towards the Breach, the green of its reach swirling around him focusing on the mark, and being drawn to it. Ghilas had trouble stepping closer, the strength was intense. Toni’s chest tightened. He prayed this worked. He prayed that no more lives were lost. This thing would be closed. The Herald would survive, and so would all of those at Haven. Everything would be fine. He hoped. He begged. He pleaded. They needed this victory to be a sweet one. 

 

Toni brought his staff from his back and placed it against the ground. The tip glowed and he focused his energy to Ghilas. He wanted to keep him safe. Help him if he could, and the Templars behind them began; knelt down, sword to the ground, their ability to repress magic was impressive to the Elven Apostate, and in doing so, weakened the Breach. 

Ghilas took only a step or two more towards the center, before he reached up, his hand igniting in that familiar green, and the light that shone was magnificent. The energy and magic swirled around him, touching every aspect, as it molded and changed against the Mark’s control. It was like trying to fit an orange through a straw -- or that’s how Toni felt at this moment. The tension was thick. If this didn’t do it….if the Breach remained...what else could they do? This was their only logical option. It needed to happen. 

 

The explosion that resonated from the Breach knocked everyone back. Light encompassed the entire conclave, leaving Toni to shut his eyes as he was flung back and onto the floor amongst the Templars. 

Groans echoed lightly in his ears as Toni began to rise, his eyes blinking to regain their vision. Looking around, he paused momentarily to lean over and make sure Bran was alright before he began through the small mess of people to find the Herald. Ghilas….Ghilas had to be alright. This couldn’t be the end. This couldn’t. 

He found the Herald. Cassandra beside him, she helped him to his feet, and Toni looked up to the sky. A faint gasp escaped as realization began to sink in; it was gone. The Breach was gone. 

“You did it,” Cassandra told him, and Ghilas turned to look back at his handy work just as the Templars, and Inquisitions soldiers cheered. The Breach was closed. The immediate threat was ended. Fereldan was safe...for the moment. 

“Yeah!” Toni cheered, smiling practically from ear to ear as he rushed over to Ghilas and lept into his arms. Ghilas laughed, spinning around with him a moment before placing him back down on the ground. “You did it! It’s closed!” Toni was thankful. His friend was alright. This was the perfect time for celebrations. 

 

And there would be.

Upon their return to Haven, there was nothing left to do but celebrate this momentous victory. People were dancing, music was playing, and there was much drinking, laughing, and everyone was genuinely happier than they had been in months since the Conclave was destroyed. Tensions were lessened, and it seemed as though a weight was lifted off everyone's shoulders. 

Ghilas stood, watching over some of the merry few dancing by the fire. Toni happened to be one of those few, who twirled around on the balls of his feet. For once in a long time, Toni felt happy. He was genuinely happy, and it showed. He took Bran’s hands and pulled him into the thick of it, attempting to get him to join him in the festivities. Everything seemed right in the world. And for a moment, Toni thought things were going to be alright. 

But that ended with a shrill wave of electricity as it ran up his spine. It was as if the fade itself was warning him of the impending attack.    
Toni gasped, ceasing all dancing as he whipped around to look to the mountains. And then the alarms began to sound. 

“Forces approaching! To arms!” Cullen called to his troops, running towards the front gate. 

Toni looked to Bran, confused and unsure, before turning his attention to Ghilas. He stood with Cassandra, both confused and now ready for whatever may come. 

Another wave of electricity ran through Toni’s body and he shook it off, allowing it to exit through his fingertips. It was strange how in one moment, everything could be thrown into chaos. But Toni had seen it before. He’d certainly see it again. 

Ghilas lept down, running up beside Toni and he gave him a nod. He wanted him to follow. Cassandra followed suit, and Toni gave a brief glance to Bran before taking off after Ghilas towards the front gate where they’d meet the advisors. 

“Cullen?” Cassandra wanted to know everything. 

“One watchguard reporting; It’s a massive force. The bulk over the mountain,” 

“Under what banner?” Josephine questioned. 

“None,” 

“ _ None _ ?” Josephine seemed surprised. It just meant they didn’t know their enemy yet. Toni didn’t like this. Something was off. 

A force pushed on the door as fire seemed to erupt and then dissipate. Toni recognized the urge of mana; A mage. 

“If someone could open this, I’d appreciate it,” A voice he recognized. Hadn’t they spoken with him at Redcliff? Dorian! The Tevinter Mage. Toni remembered. Ghilas did too, as he pushed the door open to find the other there, just beyond the steps. Bodies of fallen enemies littered the ground around him. 

Ghilas and Cullen raced forward, leaving Toni to follow suit. 

“Ah,” Dorian panted. “I’m here to warn you,” he slowly stood himself up, using his staff as a crutch. “Fashionably late, I’m afraid,” he nearly toppled over, leaving Cullen to catch him, and helping him stand on his feet. “Might exhausted. Don’t mind me,” he shook it off. His eyes moved to Ghilas. “There you are. I came to tell you what happened with the Mages in Redcliff,” he was still panting. “You’re not going to like it,” Toni felt his stomach drop. Fiona? Lysas? What of Connor? And Felix? All of those innocents…

 

“They are under the command of the Venatori. In service of something called ‘The Elder One’,” Dorian turned and pointed as a woman began to come into view. “The woman is Calpernia; she commands the Venatori, and that…” the smoky figure began to materialize, and in that moment, Toni felt electricity bubble and crack under his skin. Everything inside him told him to run, but he was frozen in place. “Is the Elder One,” 

“Creators….” Toni breathed. “What IS that?” 

“They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first,” Dorian informed. 

Ghilas was tense, his entire body probably screaming the same as Toni’s, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he turned to his commander. 

“Cullen, give me a plan. Anything,”  he demanded and Cullen looked to him, then back to the approaching force. 

“Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this Monster, we must control the battle,” He started. “Get out there and hit that force,” he motioned to the Trebuchets. "Use everything you can," Cullen unsheathed his sword as he turned to face their forces. "Soldiers gather the villagers! Fortify and watch for advance forces! Inquisition; with the Herald, for your lives; for all of us!" Cullen turned, sword out and ready. He was good at rallying the troops too. Toni could feel the vibrations of those around him as they roared to life, preparing for battle. He looked to Ghilas and he nodded to him. Toni returned the gesture. They were ready. Or as ready as they were going to be. 

 

Ghilas brought Solas, Cassandra, and Blackwall with him, but he didn’t argue when Toni followed suit. Ghilas and his party charged forward towards the first trebuchet, only to be quickly encroached upon by Venatori forces and a couple of mages. Toni tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t hear it; something was wrong with them. Toni wondered briefly if this would have been him had he been forced into a circle? He wasn’t sure, but he certainly wouldn’t be surprised. 

Either way, whatever had happened at Redcliff was bad, and there was no reversing it at the moment. They needed to fight. 

Ghilas was quick to lay down some Venatori, leaping from shadow in order to end their life, only to be right back into it. Toni focused on his fellow mages, breaking down their barriers and leaving an open, vulnerable mage for Bran and the others to finish off. 

The clash of metal rang in his ears so loudly it was almost deafening. Again and again more waves of Venatori came, attempting to stop the Trebuchets from launching but with Ghilas, his companions, and the Inquisition soldiers, the Venatori and their mage victims were easily taken down. They had TEMPLARS for crying out loud; taking care of rogue mages was their job. The unfortunate thing was probably that none of these mages actually wanted this…

The first Trebuchet fired, and Toni grinned.    
“Get to the other trebuchet! it isn’t firing!” One of the soldiers called. “We’ll watch this one and reload,” Ghilas nodded, taking off toward the second trebuchet. His companions followed, and Toni fade-stepped across the battlements to follow just as quickly. 

 

The second trebuchet was crawling with Venatori, having already been taken by the enemy. Ghilas growled, and was quick to disappear into shadow in order to sneak up on the one standing at the controls. The others charged forward, preparing themselves for the battle ahead. 

Toni barriered up as many as he could reach before he started his attacks onto the mages. 

It seemed like endless waves of them came, but to no avail. Ghilas still managed to crank the trebuchet in time to throw a final blow to the bulk coming down from the mountains. It was quick; one moment a small sea of torches were marching toward Haven, and the next it was doused by the Avalanche, leaving nothing in its wake. The roar of the crowd rose above the clouds as the horn signaled their victory. But they had little time to celebrate. 

A thundering screech echoed in their very bones as a Dragon soared into view. It blasted through one of the trebuchets, and everyone began scrambling to get back within the gates. 

“We can’t face it here! We have to….do something!” Even the Seeker was at a loss. 

“Everyone to the gates!” 

Toni's blood went cold. An archdemon? This Elder one controlled a fucking archdemon? Haven wasn't equipped for an attack by a freaking archdemon! 

Panic ensued. More Venatori took advantage of the panic and began to attack, attempting to get the upper hand, even if their numbers had diminished so quickly. 

Ghilas and the others ran for the gate, avoiding blasts from the dragon as best they could.

Toni kept to Bran’s side. If he was to die today, he would die making sure the other survived. Somehow. 

 

“Blasted shoulder!” That was Harret’s voice. “Herald! Help me with this door!”

“Cassandra!” Ghilas paused briefly as they went to pass the Blacksmith. Harret was attempting to get into his room, but couldn’t. Debris had fallen in his path, and he couldn’t move them. 

Cassandra didn’t need to be told twice, she moved in, sword at the ready and slashed through the debris. His path was opened. 

“Good one! Just grabbing essentials!” Harret started inside. “I wouldn’t die for the forge,” which was a smart idea. Ghilas and the others continued towards the main gates. Harret followed suite.

“Come on! Move it! Move it!” Cullen urged them all through the gates and once everyone was through, it was closed behind them. “We need everyone back to the Chantry! It’s the only building that might hold against….that beast!” He started up the steps, paused and looked to the Herald. “At this point, just make them work for it,” but Ghilas was obviously not ready to die. The way his eyes narrowed at the very thought gave Toni shivers. He could feel the anger seething under the Herald’s skin. It was like a raging fire. Ghilas would burn all in his way; friend or foe. 

And it would seem that Venatori would get the blunt end of Ghilas’s rage as he darted to the side at the sound of fighting. People weren’t able to get to the Chantry if they were busy fighting. 

“The people of Haven cannot survive on their own! We must help them!”

Lysette was there, and Ghilas disappeared into shadow as the others charged into battle. Solas brought a barrier over the others, and Toni made sure Solas, himself, and Bran were barriered as well as Bran ran in, shield up, after Cassandra and Blackwall.    
  


Venatori poured in through a weak spot in their walls, and the Templar known as Lysette was quick to jump to arms and protect the people of Haven, along with her own life. Ghilas would have rather left her to her own defenses, but seeing the number of forces pouring through made Ghilas growl at the prospect of letting those bastards win.    
“We have to help her!” Toni was the first to respond as he fade-stepped forward and cast a barrier over the Templar warrior. Ghilas followed suit with the others, and he quickly slipped into stealth, only to notice the Assassin slip through the ranks and head right for the Templar.    
Before the other could sink a blade into Lysette’s armor, the Herald moved and slammed a blade through the others side -- the assassin moving just in time to keep the blow from being fatal.    
Ghilas felt the slice on his cheek as he jerked his head back, and the snarl that escaped the Herald was feral and wild. The switch in his persona was quick, obvious to the trained assassin, and it frightened him to the very core. The rage that bubbled forth and shone brightly in his eyes like a never ending fire was obvious with every swing of his blade as the two went toe to toe. Ghilas was not one who enjoyed putting his life on the line so often, and as the poison on the blade began to blur his vision and make his muscles weaken, he snarled again. The Herald was ruthless as he came at the other, taking in every moment as it was vital in his survival before he was able to crack the hilt into the others cheek.    
The attack took the Assassin off guard, knocking him off his feet long enough for Ghilas to bring his blade forward and he stabbed the other through the stomach. The man gasped, coughing lightly and blood trickled against Ghilas’s skin, and he brought the blade up, slicing him from navel to nose without a second thought. The fight ended shortly after that, the others having dealt with the warriors of the Venatori, along with their mage. Ghilas chugged a health potion and was thankful to have his vision return to normal. 

“Good work, Herald!” Lysette was thankful. She might have been overrun had she been left on her own. “Protect the Chantry!” Ghilas nodded, and continued with his group up towards the Chantry, only to be stopped by a small group of Venatori and mages. Inquisition soldiers were already charging into battle as the Herald arrived as backup. Toni could hear yelling.    
He followed, pausing at the door to the infirmary.    
“Bran!” Toni turned to look at him. He couldn’t get the door open. “It’s stuck!” He attempted to pull at it again. Nothing.    
Bran shield-bashed one of the Venatori completely unconscious, sliced through them, and charged over to help Toni. He sliced down the door, only to find Sigred inside. 

“Help!” he coughed, the fire above him burning. The smoke was suffocating. Bran made sure he was pulled from the rubble and brought outside before the ceiling completely collapsed in on them.    
Toni sighed in relief. 

“Head to the chantry!” Toni informed him, and turned back to cast a barrier over Ghilas, and some Inquisition soldiers. 

Toni closed in on the small group before he could hear someone else calling for help. Haven was in shambles. And if they didn’t act fast, they were going to lose more people. 

 

“It hurts!” that sounded like Flissa. “I’m stuck! Help!”    
“Toni!” Ghilas shot him a look before he disappeared into the thick of the battle again. Toni nodded, fade-stepping to the door of the Tavern, and pushed himself through. Smoke poured through and stung at his eyes, invaded his lungs, and he coughed. He brought his head down and quickly side-stepped over fallen bits of the ceiling before he found Flissa, stuck under some fallen ceiling. He could hear the creak above them -- any moment the rest of it would fall, crushing Flissa and burning her alive if he didn’t hurry.    
“Help!”    
“I got you, Flissa!” Toni pulled the piece of wood up for as long as he could as she wiggled her way out from under it. “Go! Now!” Flissa pulled herself up, and Toni dropped the wood, and helped her escape the side door before the rest of the roof caved in behind them, leaving nothing but a swirling mass of fire and Toni shielded them from the bursts that escaped the door with his ice magic. 

An Inquisition soldier came charging out from the side of the building, spotted the two of them and he helped Flissa the rest of the way to the Chantry while Toni returned to the others. He cast his barrier again, firing out sparks of electricity towards Venatori, leaving them paralyzed. Bran came through the battle, bashing the Venatori off his feet before slamming his sword through their chest, ending their life. Pulling up his blade, Bran whipped around with enough time to see an assassin leap from the shadows to bring their blades down into him.    
Toni’s heart could have stopped in that moment and a hand shot out, blood swirling around his fingertips. His eyes rapidly changed color from gold, to brown, to red, and back to whiskey, and the Assassin stopped mid-attack to bring their own blade to their throat, before they sliced. Blood poured from the jugular, and Bran stepped back -- surprised. His body turned, and eyes met with Toni’s. It was one thing to have those under his control kill their comrades, it was another when he could convince these people to kill themselves. That will to survive was usually strong enough to give them some sort of edge, but no. There was no hesitation in that gesture. Toni had commanded, and the assassin complied. That was frightening. 

But Bran said nothing, and would say nothing. The last thing they needed was someone else to know about that, and have that come back in Toni’s face. The Inquisition leaders were already weary of him simply because he used Blood magic. It would be an entirely different thing if they realized just how well he could perform the forbidden magic.    
  


Ghilas rounded the corner with the others, and they continued their search up to the apothecary where they would find Adan and Minaeve. Minaeve was completely unconscious, while Adan struggled to pull himself from the pots. His robe seemed to be attached to something there, and his leg was injured.    
Fire crept closer to them, following the trail of oil to the pots. Toni’s heart sank into his stomach at the realization. If they didn’t free them, and pull them away, they would be burned by the blast.    
Ghilas went for Adan, while Bran to Minaeve. Bran was quick to lift the elven mage up off the cold ground, while Ghilas quickly used his blade to free Adan, and pull him back away from the pots fast enough to stop them all from being burned. The explosion happened, and Toni did his best to contain the brunt end of it within barrier he made. Cold wind and snow swirled inside, keeping the temperatures down from singeing the others. 

“H-Herald?” Minaeve seemed to stir, finding herself in Bran’s arms. “What’s going on?” She looked around as Bran set her down onto her feet. “Thank you…” 

“Get to the Chantry,” Ghilas ordered, turned his gaze to Adan, and nodded. They followed after them, towards the Chantry doors, but Ghilas stopped as more Venatori came down from the mountain. Thren was the first to respond, charging forward, sword in hand. 

Cassandra and Blackwall went charging in to keep their Quartermaster safe, along with some Inquisition soldiers who took up arms with her. Ghilas followed suit, leaving Toni and Solas to cast a barrier around those they could reach. 

 

Electricity buzzed through the air, shocking one of the Venatori in place, leaving Bran a shot to shield bash the man to the ground before bringing his sword down into his chest. Silenced forever, Toni continued to fire spells at the mages in the group. Spellbinders needed to be removed first, as most knew.    
Toni saw one of the straggler Venatori coming toward him, shield and sword at the ready.    
Toni tensed, but narrowed his eyes. He reached for the hilt at his belt before the man reached him and Toni lunged forward, the ethereal blade springing to life and taking the Venatori off guard. 

Evading an incoming assault, Toni dodged the blade, slicing his ethereal blade through the man's ankles. He came crashing down to the ground and Toni felt ice leave his fingertips. The Venatori froze, and with the swing of Bran’s blade, the man shattered into a million pieces.    
The two locked eyes with one another, questioning their safety, but found they were alight. Toni smiled lightly to the other, and Bran returned the smile before he turned on his heel and charged back into the fight. It was soon over with a quick thrust of a blade.    
“Didn’t expect this from you,” Threnn looked to Ghilas, but he simply nodded. “Thanks. Let’s go!” And they scrambled into the Chantry.

 

The Chantry doors opened and Roderick was there to greet them, though battered and bruised from the looks of it.    
“Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!” The poor man wanted to continue, but he nearly collapsed onto the floor right there as the last of them ran through the Chantry doors. Dorian was there to catch him, and he helped lead him back inside to sit.    
“A brave man. He stood against a Venatori,” Dorian explained. Ghilas paused then to look at him and the scrunch of his nose said everything. Roderick looked absolutely horrible. Even with healing magics, it didn’t seem like his outcome would be good.    
“Briefly. I am no Templar,” 

Ghilas went to open his mouth but Cullen was quick to interject. They needed to do something. 

“Herald! Our position is not good. That Dragon stole back any time you might have earned us,” Cullen raced to stand before Ghilas and the scowl on the Herald’s face was unwavering. He didn’t like the sounds of this. “There has been no communication. No Demands. Only advance after advance,” 

“There’s no bargaining with the Mages, either. This Elder one takes what it wants,” Dorian spoke up, leaving the commander and the herald to turn their attention to him.    
Toni stood in the background, just listening to the sounds of the world around them. The chaos happening just outside seemed endless, and it shuddered through everyone. Haven was unsavable. They all might very well be doomed, and the idea sent a thread of pain to shoot through his heart. Bran didn’t deserve to die here. Not like this. He was far too young. 

Whiskey eyes looked to the man he loved and a desperation settled in his eyes. Bran turned his gaze from the Herald to Toni just in time to catch a glimpse, before Toni turned his gaze to the floor. 

Bran reached his arm out and wrapped it around Toni’s shoulders, pulling the smaller male into his chest. Toni complied with the gesture as Bran held Toni’s back against his chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Toni simply reached up and let his hands rest upon the others arms. Bran leaned in to Toni’s ear and whispered to him. 

“It’s going to be okay,” seemed more like a lie. But a lie Toni wanted to believe in.    
“It has to be…” Toni whispered back, leaning his head into the others shoulder. 

Toni tuned out the others briefly, but he couldn’t keep himself from listening in for long. Cullen’s words brought another pain to his chest. This couldn’t be it. There had to be another way.    
“If we turn the last of them to the mountains above us-”   
“We’re overrun. To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven,” 

“This is not survivable  _ now _ . The only choice left is how spitefully we end this,” Toni couldn’t find words. Thankfully Dorian had enough for both of them. 

“Well that’s not acceptable. I didn’t race here only for you to drop rocks on my head,”    
“Should we submit? Let him kill us?”    
“Dying is typically a last resort, not first! For a Templar, you think like a blood mage,” 

Toni’s cheeks puffed out. That was not how he thought. He certainly wasn’t prepared to let the people around him die. Himself, perhaps. Toni would sacrifice everything he had to keep Bran safe. But not the lives of others.    
“There is a path,” Roderick spoke up, gasping between pained breaths. He wouldn’t last much longer. “You wouldn’t know it was there, unless you’d made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. The people can escape,” This had Ghilas’s attention. He wasn’t interested in dying either. In fact, Cullen’s idea had already brought more of a sneer from the man than he probably realized. “She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could…” he had to pause a moment, “Tell you,” 

“What are you on about, Roderick?” Ghilas questioned, arms crossing. 

“It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start. It was overgrown,” the very idea that Ghilas may actually be sent from Andraste was obviously running through his mind now, even as he was severely injured and Haven was against all odds. “Now, with so many in the conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers...I don’t know, Herald..If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident.  _ You _ could be more,” Ghilas pursed his lips. If Roderick had a way out, then Ghilas -- being the Herald -- would have to distract the beasts. And this Elder one.    
“If that thing is here for me, I’ll make him fight for it,” He practically growled.    
“And when the mountain falls? What about you?” 

Ghilas was silent as he looked from his commander and to the ground. Toni could almost feel the rage bubbling up inside the other. He hated this. he hated this so much. His rage was almost visible on his skin. 

“Perhaps you  _ can _ surprise the Elder One,” Dorian seemed surprised himself. All of this was too much to take. Ghilas would be alone to face this Elder One...Toni didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He needed someone else to be there. What if he needed him? Creators…   
Cullen was quick to move as Dorian helped Roderick stand and walk through the Chantry.    
“Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!” 

Roderick took barely a moment to pause at Ghilas. Ghilas looked to him, arms still crossed and seething, but silent.    
“Herald..” his breathing seemed harder now. “If you were meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this….I pray for you,” and with that, Dorian continued with Roderick on his shoulder.    
Soldier’s ran past, heading for the gate.    
“They’ll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder Ones attention until we’re above the treeline,” Ghilas nodded. “If we are to have a chance -- if  _ you _ are to have a chance -- let that thing hear you,” Ghilas turned his attention to the ground.    
“Cassandra, Cole,” his eyes moved to Toni and he instantly perked up. “Toni...Bran,” he couldn’t deny one or the other. Toni would follow whether he liked it or not, and wherever one went, the other would not be far behind. 

  
  


A final stand against the enemy. It was either win and survive, or fail and die. Toni prefered the first, but wasn’t willing to run away with the rest of the Inquisition. Ghilas needed him. And Toni would fight with every breath he held. 

Ghilas was quick as he ran from the Chantry and headed straight for the Trebuchet. Even as Venatori forces emerged from the sidelines - having waited for them - Ghilas did not stop. He disappeared into shadow, throwing out command’s.    
“Kill them! Quickly!” Ghilas did not want to waste any time; not with that archdemon flying around. 

Toni immediately froze a Venatori, catching some of his companions in the ice. Cassandra and Bran charged in, shields up, and shattered through the crowd. Swords catching sword, and the barrier Toni erected shielded them from any other incoming attack. Their enemies were quickly laid to rest as Cole lept from the shadows and finished off the stragglers.    
They all hurried after Ghilas, and just as they arrived, the Herald appeared, driving his dagger clean through a Venatori’s armor. 

The rage that boiled just below the surface fueled him forward, and mercy for his enemies was not found. Bran and Cassandra followed Ghilas into the throng of the fight, the Trebuchet overrun with Venatori forces. Toni kept his distance, barriering his companions as much as he could manage before he continued to fire electrical spells. The air cracked and buzzed with magic, and only got worse as Rebel mages came to aid their Venatori allies.    
Bran and Cassandra could thankfully handle the mages well -- considering Templar training -- while Cole and Ghilas chose to discretely end their enemies lives with a keen blade to the back. 

 

Glyphs were the only downfall to any of their advances, sending both Bran and Cassandra to the ground. Toni growled, dispelling the effects, before he fade-stepped across the battlements and sliced clean through the mage with his dagger.    
But being that close to the fighting meant more damage to the mage, and Toni felt the slam of a shield against the back of his head before he toppled to the ground in an ungraceful heap. 

The world went black. Even if he could still hear the fighting, Toni was unable to move. He was vulnerable and defenseless there on the cold ground. Swords clashed around him, screams of the fallen echoing his entire core. He waited for the blade to come -- or simply to be stepped on -- but nothing of the sort came. Instead, he felt himself hoisted up from the ground.    
“Sa-Toni,” The voice was familiar, yet afraid. Toni wanted to reassure him he was alright, but his body did not react where his mind barely understood. It was hazy, and almost seemed as though it was far away from him now as he slipped further and further into his unconscious mind.    
Liquid graced his lips, and for a moment, Toni could feel the sudden tug of reality upon him. His eyes fluttered open as he choked, coughing up some of the potion before being allowed the rest of it. Bran stood there, holding him up amongst the bodies of fallen Venatori.    
Toni sighed, contented by the fog that seemed to leave him as the potion worked its magic against his wounds -- and concussion.    
“Thank you,” Bran hugged him lightly, not wanting to hurt him.    
Toni returned the gesture before he turned to spot the others. Ghilas was aiming the Trebuchet. 

Cole spotted the oncoming forces before the others and warned Ghilas, but he seemed too determined to get that damned trebuchet aimed to think of much else.    
  
Bran released Toni, only pausing briefly to make sure the other could stand on his own before he charged back into the battle alongside Cassandra. Cole seemed to disappear into the shadows, and Ghilas -- painfully aware of the oncoming attacks -- continued to aim the trebuchet.    
Toni erected a barrier around the Herald and shot a fireball as one of the Venatori got too close to him. But eventually Ghilas would have to abandon his efforts against aiming, and turn on the Venatori. 

It was when Fiona came to the battle that Ghilas had to stop. The trebuchet was almost completely aimed. More Venatori came to defend the mage, and it took everything in Toni’s arsenal to keep the others from falling. 

Fiona was a powerful mage, and it was disheartening for Toni to think that this is what happened to the Rebel mages -- being manipulated and controlled by this  _ thing _ . What was this Elder One? Why did it want to kill them? Why did it want the Mages? The Templars? What was it’s plan? All questions that only brought more questions with it. This was bigger than the conclave. And that caused fear to ripple through the elven apostate. Failure was not an option. And neither was dying. Ghilas needed to survive. The Herald needed to continue fighting this Elder one. He needed to defeat him. And it was obvious that they weren’t prepared to do so here and now with Haven about to be buried by snow. 

 

With Cassandra landing the final blow that ended Fiona’s life, only lifeless Venatori and Mage bodies littered the ground around them. Ghilas was quick to finish aiming the Trebuchet, only to have a screech thunder through the entirety of the group. 

Eyes to the sky, the Archdemon was above them, swinging around and began to dive, heading right for them. Ghilas took a soft step back, then again.    
“Move,” he paused, everyone beginning to head back towards the Chantry. “Now!” 

And they did. Only seconds passed before the Archdemon shot forth tainted fire, catching something, and the explosion sent Ghilas, Toni, and Bran flying. 

Two of the three fell unconscious. 

Toni could only hear voices, or what sounded like voices. Someone...calling his name in the darkness. It stirred him awake, but not enough to completely regain consciousness.    
Toni’s eyes fluttered, but could barely stay open.    
He felt hands upon his person, attempting to lift him and Toni tried to push away with what little control he had.    
“I am helping,” Cole’s voice attempted to reason with him, but Toni wouldn’t have it.    
“H-Help Bran…” There was a pause.    
“But you’re hurt. Let me help,”    
“You’ll help me...by keeping Bran safe…” Toni’s grip tightened on the man's arms. “Release me. I want to stay with the Herald…”    
Cole hesitated, but gently set Toni back down before he released him entirely. He didn’t like it. But Toni shook his head in an attempt to regain himself. He could see a blurry image of Cassandra and Cole both helping an unconscious Bran to safety as Ghilas laid upon the floor not too far away from him. He was rising, and Toni wanted to stand with him -- to help him up and stand before that...thing together -- but he could barely move. 

 

He could hear the confrontation just ahead of him, in a jumbled mess of words and sounds that wracked at his already aching head. He wanted to help, but was helpless to do so. 

The ground shuddered under him, and Toni could hear the roar of the beast so loudly ringing soon took over where the sound had left. He could hear nothing. Barely see nothing, but as the colored blobs began to take shape, Toni could feel his consciousness returning to him.    
Slowly the elven apostate pushed himself up off the ground and began to slowly make his way to where the Herald was. 

“The anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling,” a voice Toni could not recognize, but came to know as Corypheus. He could see now, though nausea kept him from outright running to the Heralds aid, along with the pain that wracked through his head. He checked his person but found no health potions. He must have dropped them during the explosion. No matter. He’d find one later. 

Ghilas scrambling to his feet upon the Trebuchet. And for a moment, Toni lost sight of the Herald as the Dragon stepped into Toni’s line of sight. “So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation --  _ and God _ \-- it requires,” tensions where high. Toni could feel magic bubbling in the air. Was that Corypheus? “And you. I will not suffer an unknowing rival. You  _ must  _ die,” Toni’s chest tightened and he began to stumble forward, attempting to run. It was slow at first, then faster...faster…   
  
Ghilas stood before this Elder One with a rage that practically seeped from him. Magic licked at his skin, though could only be felt upon the wind. Control was natural for the elf, even if he denied having it in the first place. It was what kept his powers under his control. It was what kept him from acting out in fits of rage, no matter the circumstances. But this? This was entirely different. He wanted to unleash everything within him, and for a moment, someone else entirely seemed to take over.    
The Herald of Andraste no more stood before this blighted creature. Instead, a proud elven mage took his place and with sword in hand, Ghilas could only smirk at the things ignorance to their plan. Did he honestly believe they would not find a way to succeed? With all these people gone...with no one left to witness this….Ghilas could unleash his true potential; his true self. 

“Your arrogance blinds you,” his golden eyes glowed white. “Good to know,” Ghilas turned and kicked the trigger on the Trebuchet which launched the rocks clean over Haven and towards the mountainside. The wind picked up, by command, and Ghilas stood there as it whipped around him. He needed no staff. “You wish to be a God, Corypheus...then you shouldn’t have made one your enemy-” Toni’s body collided with Ghilas as he fade-stepped to the other to close the distance as the avalanche came closer and closer to Haven.    
Their bodies tumbled, crashing against the opening in the floor, and disappeared into the mine as Haven became buried. 

Their worlds plunged into darkness, along with their consciousness.   
  



	4. Welcome to Skyhold, Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Corypheus's plot against the Herald has been soiled -- for the time being -- it is time for the Herald and Toni to find their way to the Inquisition camp.

_ Fields of green cascaded on for miles. The forest just barely outlined the field, and in the distance, the cottage the Stal family inhabited for three generations sat untouched and surrounded by wildflowers.  _

_ Samahl stepped out of the woods, crouched to the ground as much as he could push his lithe body to bend. Hiding in the tall grass, he continued through the field. Whiskey eyes scanned the area, searching, prepared for anything, and there he stood...just as beautiful as the day they met.  _ _  
_ _ He was the oldest of the Stal siblings. Tall, muscular, dark skinned, and held the most vibrant  _

_ green eyes the elf had ever seen. He had been enthralled by the shem since their first meeting almost ten years ago. And now they met every summer as Samahl’s clan came through the area.  _

_ His shoulders swayed, much like a cat as it prepared to pounce. One moment he was watching the other, hidden perfectly amongst the tall grass, and the next he was leaping through the air.  _

_ “BRAN!” his voice came only seconds before the impact.  _

_ Bran tumbled to the ground, landing amongst the wildflowers while Samahl landed upon him haphazardly. The two boys laughed. Samahl continued to grin, arms wrapped around the other's torso.  _

_ “How long are you sticking around this time?” Bran asked, curious to see how long his friend would be around.  _

_ “Not sure,” Samahl sat himself up, spreading out in the grass beside the other. “Mamae was going to see if your mama wanted anything she brought back from the Arbor wilds. We got some good herbs this time around. Sylaise blessed us with bountiful harvests,” Samahl smiled, turning his head to look at the other.  _

_ “Samahl…” Bran’s tone was worrying. Was that a hint of sorrow in his eyes? Samahl sat up, his head cocking to the side as he watched the other sit himself up and sit there in silent for a long moment. “I’m leaving soon,” he spoke so softly, he barely heard himself speak. But Bran knew Samahl could hear him -- those elven ears of his.  _

_ Samahl blinked once, twice, three times before he furrowed his brows in confusion.  _

_ “I do not understand. Where are you going? When will you be back?”  _

_ “I’m going to the Chantry…” Chantry. Samahl knew the word. Why? The look of confusion began to morph into a half-confused, half-disgusted look.  _

_ “I didn’t take you for the...Cleric-type, Bran,” Bran laughed.  _

_ “No, not for that,” his smile faltered. “I’m going to become a Templar,” the word resonated between the two of them and Bran couldn’t even look Samahl in the eye. He was a mage. And Bran was becoming one of the very things he had told him he feared.  _ _  
_ _ Samahl sat there, completely struck by the words. The silence between them rang loudly in their ears, and Samahl struggled to find the words before he sighed.  _

_ “When are you leaving?”  _

_ “In a week,” A week. A single week. And Samahl would lose his friend to the Templars. It broke his heart. He could hear it cracking in his very chest, and threatening to shatter right there. He couldn’t lose him.  _ **_‘Ma Falon. Ma….ma….’_ **

_ “I’ll have to come visit you then,” Samahl finally said, pulling a smile onto his lips. Forced, but there, and seemingly natural. Bran looked up and for a moment, their eyes locked. He could read right through him.  _

_ “That could be dangerous, Samahl,”  _

_ “So?” Samahl shrugged. “Couldn’t be any worse than the time I decided to go through a hunter’s rite, and we hunted that dragon together,” Bran laughed, causing Samahl to smile.  _

_ “You mean those bears,” Bran corrected him.  _ _  
_ _ “Well I was going for the Dragon,” Samahl reminded him, still smiling. “We just so happened to find the bear first,” they chuckled, but again the silence seemed to linger longer than either of them wanted.  _

_ “You’re not….mad?” Bran finally broke the silence and Samahl looked into his beautiful green orbs and smiled genuinely.  _

_ “No, I’m not mad, Bran. Why should I be mad? The Templars are gaining a wonderful man; someone who will make them into something better than they are. You will be a Templar to look up to; the true meaning of what they have lost over the years,” Bran was surprised by his response, and it showed on his face. “I am not mad. I am jealous. They have you...and I will see you less because of it. But if that is...what you want, I will not deny that for you,”  _

_ “It’s not…” Bran sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what I  _ **_WANT,_ ** _ but it will put bread on the table,”  _

_ Samahl nodded, understanding the concept. The Dalish worked for most of everything they had. Samahl’s clan happened to be different than most Dalish clans since they openly traded with Shemlen when they could.  _

_ “If you’re looking for my permission, then you have it,” Samahl chuckled lightly. “Like I said...You’d make a great Templar. You’re a good man. It’ll be nice knowing that there is, at least, someone in the Order who isn’t corrupt,” Samahl then stood up, brushing the grass from his clothes. “But you haven’t left yet. Let us partake in the celebration of your time here, before we cry over you leaving, yes?” Samahl reached out his hand to help his friend up. “Besides, I will come to visit,”  _

_ Bran took Samahl’s hand and lifted himself up from the floor.  _

_ “No, you won’t. You could get in trouble, Samahl. You said you’d rather die than be put in a circle,”  _

_ “I would rather, but you are worth the risk,”  _

_ “No. Don’t. Samahl, I mean it. You have to promise me you won’t,” Samahl stood there, his cheeks lightly puffed out as he pouted. “Samahl, promise me…”  _ _  
_ _ Samahl stood there, hands on his hips, but he finally gave up and sighed.   _

_ “I promise,” he said as he crossed his toes.  _

 

“Toni….Toni, wake up,” a familiar voice began to pull him out of the dream -- the memory that lingered in the back of his mind. “Toni... _ Fenedhis _ ,” he growled. “It’s fucking freezing, get up!” 

Toni’s eyes fluttered open and he found the face to go with the voice; Ghilas. 

“Finally!” Ghilas was irritable. He pushed himself off the other and stood in the cavern, looking around. “You alright?”    
“Yeah, I think so…” Toni sat himself up and rubbed at spots on his body that ached. His teeth chattered lightly. Fuck it was cold! “Where are we?” Toni looked around, curious. He wasn’t expecting to survive that avalanche, but they did. How?

“I don’t know,” Ghilas growled, looking back at him. “Some cavern under Haven,” he shook his head. “You fucking idiot. You could have died,” 

“So could have you,” Toni retorted. Ghilas didn’t like his response, and closed the distance between the two of them and he gripped Toni’s shirt tightly within his fingers and hoisted him up and onto his feet. 

“That is my fucking job, Anthony! Not yours!” the surge of anger was something Toni wasn’t expecting. He gasped aloud, eyes wide as he stared down at Ghilas. This was not the Ghilas Toni knew. He was angry, vulgar, and there was something there, something else Toni couldn’t put his finger on, but it made him uncomfortable. “You should have gone with everyone else!” 

“You shouldn’t have to risk your life alone, Ghilas! I joined you to help! Not run away every time you needed to be a Herald!” 

Ghilas growled, dropping Toni to the ground.

“I will not lose you,” the words held more anger than they did sorrow. But Toni could hear it; the faint crack in his tone. “I’ve lost enough to the hands of another,” Ghilas turned and stared him down. “I will not lose you too,” a sickening feeling sunk into Toni’s stomach. The way Ghilas was looking at him made him uncomfortable. It was hunger, anger, and riddled with need, desire, and -- for the lack of a better word -- desperation. 

“Ghila-” Toni didn’t get a chance to finish. Ghilas closed the distance, slamming Toni against the cold wall behind him and crashed their lips together. Fingers sunk deep into Toni’s flesh, holding him there. He could already feel the bruises forming, and Toni squirmed under his grip, trying to break free. 

Hot tongue invaded his mouth, forcing itself between his teeth and Toni’s entire body screamed in defiance. He bit down, and Ghilas pulled back, but it didn’t stop him from returning the bite, but at Toni’s neck.    
“Ghilas! Stop!” Toni kept pushing, the magic thrumming on his skin as a warning, but Ghilas didn’t stop. 

 

The Herald reached a hand up and clasped his neck and chin tightly within his fingertips. Their eyes met, Toni’s heart racing. The way Ghilas looked at him. Maker...Mythal...help him. This wasn’t the Herald he risked his life for. This wasn’t the man he knew. And all Toni could think of was the foreshadows at Therinfal Redoubt -- the rage and merciless actions of a man who cared more about his own life. Those same feelings that Toni saw in him upon awakening in the cavern below Haven. This was Ghilas. This was the face nobody saw. Was that charismatic charm all just a facade? And to what end? What did Ghilas gain from this? 

“I will have you,” his voice was low, guttural, and Toni was thrown to the floor before he had a chance to speak. Skull clashed with hard ground, and the world began to spin. Teeth met skin, and Toni yelped, but to no avail. Ghilas kept coming, pinning him to the floor in that cold cavern and leaving a trail of hot kisses and nips upon his skin as he ventured from his neck, down to his navel. “I get what I want...Bran can’t have you,” Toni could feel the tears swelling in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This…

“Stop, Ghilas...please..” his voice was faint if there at all. His body trembled, and the cold air that met his chest as Ghilas pushed his shirt up with his hand did not help the tightening of his muscles. His body wracked against the cold, wanting to writhe and curl into a ball to escape it. Ghilas would not let up his hold. He was pinned there, defiled, and Toni could barely do anything at all. He wanted to lash out -- to scream, cry, kick and light his damned hair on fire -- but he wouldn’t. The fear kept him almost complicit as it rose in his belly and traveled through every vein. It filled him completely, but wouldn’t stop the tears from falling. This was not how Toni pictured this ending. Death perhaps? But not this. Death would have been kinder. 

 

Toni waited for what he assumed would be the inevitable end, but it never came. Ghilas simply...continued to litter his body with kisses and nips, leaving bruises on his wrists, thighs, and hips like fingerprints. Toni began to come down from the high of his fear, and he looked down to Ghilas. He trembled there, just tasting him as if forcing himself to continue, but he was stuck there, unable to venture forth with his plan. He wasn’t going to go through with this. Toni could see that. 

“Ghilas…” Toni was surprised by the confidence in his voice as Ghilas looked up, almost startled by the sudden change. Even with red eyes, Toni looked down at him and they stared at one another for a long moment. “Stop. This isn’t going to fix anything,” 

The snort that escaped Ghilas left Toni to ponder over the other man's actions. He was scared and angry -- probably more so than Toni thanks to Corypheus. Fear made you do stupid things. Fear of losing someone…. “You’re not going to do anything to me,” 

Ghilas almost growled. “You’re not exactly in a position to think so,” 

“It’s too fucking cold for this shit, Ghilas,” Toni spat, his teeth chatting lightly as he spoke. 

Ghilas sat there a moment, half upon the other elf, and he chuckled a bit, his body relaxing from the tension he had built up within his system for a while. 

“I’m….and you’re…” Ghilas could barely put two and two together without continuing to chuckle. “I’m attempting to violate you...and you’re bitching about how cold it is…”

“I know you’re not going to,” he was quiet still, though much more relaxed than he had been moments ago. What had changed? Ghilas didn’t know. He wanted to, though. 

“And what makes you say that?”    
“Because I know you, Ghilas,” it all made sense now that Toni had a moment to think. Ghilas hesitated. A man like him didn’t hesitate if he really wanted something. This was cover. This was a face he was desperate to portray to the world -- himself more importantly -- and it was cracking under the pressure of his true emotions. Ghilas didn’t like hurting people. For as much as he played it off like it bothered him very little, it was the exact opposite. “You’re like me. You just don’t want to get hurt any more than you already have….”    
The way Ghilas seemed to slack at his words, Toni knew he had hit the proverbial nail on the head. That entire mask crumbled before him, and it was like a new Ghilas sat there, staring at the floor. His grip upon Toni’s wrists loosened first, before he pulled back completely, and slowly rose to his feet over him. 

 

Toni took a moment to right himself, pushing his clothes back into position. The bare skin was thankful for cover, and a shiver ran through his entire body. Goose pimples littered his skin, and for a moment he laid there, propped up on his elbows before Ghilas held out his hand to help him up. Toni was hesitant to take it, but after a moment, his fingers laced with his and Ghilas helped him up off the cold ground.    
“We should find a way out,” Ghilas spoke, as if mumbling into himself. With averted eyes, Ghilas led the way. The two ventured further and further through the narrow passages of the caverns. Where did they lead? Did they lead anywhere? Many a time, Ghilas and Toni would find dead ends, and have to turn back through the winding tunnels. Toni could barely feel his fingers and -- in an attempt to keep warm without depleting his mana supply -- kept a light warmth of the electricity that thrummed through him on his skin. Just enough to keep him from completely freezing through, or losing his fingers and toes to frostbite, but not enough to keep the core of himself warm. 

“I could give you a light warmth from some fire-”

“My incurable anger and asshole-yness will keep me warm,” Ghilas immediately cut him off. He didn't want Toni to over exert himself. “Don't worry about me. I'm fine,” 

“But-”

“The rage in my belly is keeping me warm,” that didn't make him feel any better, but fear kept him from arguing. He could see it, though; the heat radiating off him. Ghilas was keeping himself warm with magic, he had to be, but was he consciously aware of it? Toni couldn't tell. But he knew the Herald had some form of magic. 

 

They continued through the mine, coming up to an opening, which Ghilas was eager to see if it led to the surface, only to have some kind of rift opening up in front of them. Ghilas disappeared instantly, leaving Toni unprepared and vulnerable to an attack as a Despair demon and a wraith appeared. The knot in Toni's stomach tightened and before he could even let out a startled scream, Ghilas reappeared and brought up a small rift that sucked them back into the fade then closed, leaving no trace of what just happened. 

Toni dropped to his knees, his body shuddering as he sat there in awe. 

“What…-”

“Don't ask me,” Ghilas shrugged. “I felt the mark get hot, so I figured I'd release some energy, and it did that instead,” 

Toni's cheeks puffed out. 

“So you had no idea if that was going to save my ass or not?”

“Nope,”

“You are a dick,” Ghilas stood there, unmoving and unimpressed by Toni's outburst. 

“I figured by now you would have gotten that hint. Or was that..incident in the cavern not a big enough sign for you?”

Toni snorted, but Ghilas helped him up off the floor and he walked ahead, peaking out from the entrance before he came back. 

“It's our way out. But there's no sign of anyone else,” Ghilas explained. “Now would be the time to heat yourself up, cause we're going to go hunting for them,”

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death out there!”    
“Or we’ll freeze to death in here,” Ghilas snapped. “You either do as I say, and we both survive, or you can fucking stay here and freeze to death while I get my ass to camp!” Toni stared at the other, silent, but in awe of the ferocity in his voice. Ghilas took a moment to compose himself, sighing through his nose as he rubbed his temples.    
“Toni...Anthony...I do not -- will not -- put myself in a position that continuously puts myself in danger if the outcome is not favorable enough to the prospect of dying. We either continue moving, and increase our chances of survival, or you die here. Because I am not staying,” 

“Thought you couldn’t lose me,” Toni spoke in barely a whisper, afraid to spark up another confrontation with Ghilas. The other just looked down to the cold ground, his left hand outstretching so he could gaze into the mark, and for a moment, there was a deafening silence. 

“I won’t,” Ghilas spoke softly, his tone gentler than is was before. His eyes locked with Toni’s. Golden staring into whiskey. “I’m taking you with me whether you want to go, or not,” Ghilas moved with the swiftness of a rogue as he lifted Toni up into his arms and started out into the snow.    
“GHILAS!” Toni practically screeched, more or less still jumpy from their last encounter. But Ghilas was gentle, yet firm in his grip on the mage as he began trudging through the knee-high snow. “For the love of -- Ghilas, put me down!”    
“I’m not leaving you to die in there, Toni,”    
“I’m not telling you to LEAVE ME THERE, I am just more than capable of walking, you bumbling idiot!” Toni struggled still, but Ghilas finally seemed to give, and he paused briefly to set the other down.    
“Then come on,” Ghilas continued to walk, their bodies freezing out in the cold wintery night. “We have an Inquisition to find.” 

 

\----

  
  


The two bodies that slowly pulling themselves through the snow were completely exhausted. Toni’s mana had long since depleted to nothing, leaving him completely vulnerable to the cold. Ghilas had only paused moments after Toni’s mana gave into exhaustion to hand him some socks and warmer shoes. Being true to his Dalish heritage, Toni didn’t wear shoes much. But now was an opportune time to do so. 

At least, it would take longer for his toes to get frostbite? 

Teeth chattering, muscles tense and sore -- attempting to hold in any warmth he had left -- his body screaming for rest, but it didn’t come fast enough. They continued on. Seeing faint signs of where camp may or may not have been as they continued through the mountains.    
“Embers?” Ghilas forced himself ahead to find an abandoned fire. The embers were still red though there wasn’t much left. “Must be recent…” His head turned and golden eyes stared at the shivering heap of a mess that was Toni, arms wrapped around his body in an attempt to hold in the cold. He was shivering, and trembling with exhaustion all at once and Ghilas knew they wouldn’t last much longer out there. Toni wouldn’t last…

Ghilas let out a shaky sigh as he stepped down toward Toni. Toni just watched him, unsure of what he was doing before he was suddenly lifted up into the others arms. Ghilas was still warm, or, at least, warmer than Toni was. His skin was like ice compared to the other.    
“Ghilas-”   
“Shut up,” Ghilas continued to walk, holding onto the other. “Just keep warm, okay?” 

“But-” 

“Stop. You’re freezing,” Toni couldn’t argue. He was too tired to argue, and Ghilas was too warm to say no at the moment. He curled tightly into his arms, attempting to be closer to his warmth than he already was. Ghilas seemed unfazed as he continued through the snow. Toni didn’t know where he got the energy from. Toni was barely managing to take the steps he needed to move forward while Ghilas was now carrying the other through the snow.    
The sound of wolves in the distance made Toni uneasy, but they seemed to leave them alone. Toni was grateful. 

 

Ghilas walked for what seem like days, still carrying Toni in his arms and the closeness kept them both a bit warmer than they had been. But time was of the essence. They needed shelter soon. 

Toni could hear the weariness of the Herald and had attempted -- on numerous occasions -- to get the other to put him down onto his feet, but Ghilas refused. 

“I will keep you alive,” he’d say, and nothing more. Aside from perhaps a random curse every now and again when the wind blew just right. With the mild form of rest, Toni was able to gather some bit of strength left and he attempted to use his magic to keep them warm, but it would deplete fast, leaving them vulnerable again. The entire experience was frustrating. 

Ghilas panted heavily, his breath seen through the cold wind as he begrudgingly trudged further up the mountain side towards the opening. Camp had to be around there somewhere. Where did they all escape to? 

His feet numb against the snow, Ghilas stumbled lightly before he collapsed to his knees in the snow. Toni was startled by the movement, not expecting to be dropped, and yet, Ghilas held firmly to the other elf.    
“Ghilas!?” Toni’s tone draped in worry left the Herald to smile wearily at the other. But words did not form -- not from Ghilas anyway. 

“There they are!” Cassandra’s voice echoed in Toni’s ears and Toni jerked his head only to find Cassandra, a scout, and Cullen all rushing toward them at once. “Oh thank the Maker!”    
Relief washed over the apostate. They were safe. Camp was found. They could rest. Finally. 

 

\----

 

Both bodies were warmed quickly, and Toni was thankful to have warmer -- especially dry -- clothes upon his person now more than ever. And shoes. His warm toes wiggled happily as he curled up next to the fire, his entire body wrapped in a blanket. The only thing still visible were his eyes.    
Ghilas, however, took to a tent and attempted to sleep once they got him into warmer clothes. Mother Giselle watched over the Herald, but nobody would rest. Not with the Advisers arguing amongst themselves. Toni could ignore the sound. Having lived with his clan long enough, the arguing was almost familiar.    
A smile spread across his features as he recalled Helani and Revas arguing by the fire on more than one occasion. Always about hunting strategies, or where they should go to next. Helani was the more logical of the two -- she had always understood that their trade with the Shem was important, whereas Revas was more interested in keeping to themselves, and never seeing another Shem again. It was understandable though both of them hotheaded. 

“Just kiss already,” Toni had often said to them in the mass of their argument, which was probably a bad idea in hindsight, but worth every word. Toni often got chased away by Revas, arrows barely missing him as he dodged back behind his Mother’s Aravel. And the laughter that seemed to rise from the whole clan as they witnessed the skirmish kept him feeling at home. It was a memory that Toni often cherished. He missed the times like that more than anything. 

He missed the way Assan would sit with him as he carved out hilts for daggers, or constructed a bow from ironbark. The stories he’d tell about the days when he was a Hunter and the creatures he had seen back from his old clan. He had married into the Enansal clan a long time ago. He and his wife, Mahari were so very close. The way they looked at one another made the young elf wish he could find a love that strong. He just hadn’t realized it would come in the form of a dirt covered, dark skinned shem with the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. 

 

And speaking of that particular Shem, Toni perked up a moment and looked around for his beloved. Now that his strength was returning, Toni began to question why he was not immediately bombarded by the other. Was he alright? Did he make it? Panic began to set in, and then Cole appeared.    
“He’s resting. Doesn’t know you’re here yet. You should wake him,” Toni looked up to the other and he smiled a bit. 

“Thank you, Cole,” Toni began to get up. 

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Toni’s eyes moved to the other. “What happened with your clan. It wasn’t your fault. Your mother would be proud of who you are, no matter what you think of yourself,” Toni’s chest swelled with a familiar emotion and he turned his gaze back to the floor. Cole seemed confused. “Wait, that didn’t help...let me try again…”    
“It’s alright, Cole. More people need your help right now more than I do…” Toni slowly rose from his spot on the floor by the fire. “Come back another time...and maybe I’ll let you try again…” and with that, Toni began to walk away from camp, though still completely wrapped up in his warm blankets. 

He felt selfish for thinking of his clan now. He felt selfish for taking away time from Cole when he could be helping others. Toni had lived this long with the guilt and anguish, he could live a bit longer with it. But as Toni turned to look at what was left of the Inquisition, the elven apostate began to feel an ache growing inside of him. 

All of those people lost someone they cared for tonight, whether it was a loved one or a friend. So many people died because of this Elder One -- Corypheus -- and his stupid plan of ascending to godhood, though if that was actually possible was an entirely different story. But all those people...no matter his abilities -- the blood magic, being trained as a rogue, or even the minor training as a Knight Enchanter -- Toni hadn’t been able to help the Herald save everyone. People died. And he felt responsible though he knew he shouldn’t. 

 

Whiskey eyes turned back to the cold, unforgiving mountains from which he and Ghilas had traveled from. You couldn’t see Haven anymore -- especially with it buried under rock and snow, but he felt drawn to the place. He would return, help them find remains of the fallen...and plant trees over their graves, or at least upon the grounds from which Haven once stood. But for now...Toni would attempt to honor the fallen the best he could; the only way he could.    
He sang. It was soft, and probably carried away by the wind, but it was there. An old elven song he had learned a long time ago to honor the dead. The words left an ache at the very core, and in that moment everything really began to sink in; all those people who were now dead, the danger they all were truly in, and the fact that Ghilas would have to face this thing again. His voice cracked a couple of times as he sat himself down in the snow, just completely overcome with grief. They were not his kin. They were not his clan, and yet he understood the pain that was left behind. He knew it well. And as he finished, soft echoes followed of voices that were not his own.    
Toni looked up, behind him, and discovered a couple of elves there, some with Vallaslin, and others not -- Inquisition soldiers. Toni smiled faintly, and for a moment...he didn’t feel as alone as he once did.    
“Come on…” A small redheaded elven lad walked over to him and helped him up and onto his feet. “It’s cold out here on your own, da’len…” he was just about as short as Toni was, bright blue eyes that sparkled, and the biggest of smiles. He seemed to just radiate with love and affection. He helped Toni back to the fire and sat with him. They chatted a bit, mostly over similar things -- where they came from, clan stories, the like. But Toni then realized he hadn’t...caught the guy’s name.    
“I’m…..Anthony. But you can call me Toni. With an I,” Toni grinned.    
The redhead blinked, a bit surprised he didn’t hear something elven, but he just kind of smiled knowingly to the brunet and leaned back on his hands.    
“I’m Athim,” He continued to smile before pointing up to one of Leliana’s rogues as she walked over to the Spymaster and gave her an update. “And that’s my sister, Enora,”    
“Nice to meet you,” Toni smiled and looked to the woman before nodding. He’d have to make sure to remember to introduce himself at another time. “I’m glad you both made it out then,” 

“Yeah, me too,” Athim laughed. “Glad you and the Herald got out. Creators be praised. Or the Maker,” Athim shrugged. “If we can have more than one, then I don’t see how both couldn’t possibly exist,” Toni blinked a couple times before he smiled, nodding. 

“Agreed.” Athim seemed to perk up at their agreement, and his ears twitched. Toni chuckled. He remembered the days when he was very similar; happy and energetic. Bran had been the reason for a lot of it, honestly. And speaking of him…

 

Toni saw the other’s form as he stood in the tent near Ghilas, most likely questioning him on where he was, when Ghilas motioned to the fire. Bran turned and their eyes locked. Toni smiled from his spot on the ground. Bran seemed to relax and started over to him. Toni stood, and upon his arrival, Bran pulled him into a tight hug, leaving Toni to practically gasp for breath.    
“Bran…” Toni chuckled lightly.    
“I thought….” Bran didn’t even finish his sentence as he buried his face into the other's shoulder, just taking a moment to breathe in the scent of him. Toni frowned lightly, his hands gently rubbing circles into the others back.    
“Ir abelas,” Toni whispered, resting his head upon Bran’s. “I didn’t mean to...make you worry,” Fingers laced with Toni’s clothes, holding him tighter to the other, and Toni could only stand there and attempt to comfort him as much as he could. Toni’s fingers laced into Bran’s hair, just gently playing with the tresses before song distracted them both. 

Toni looked up, Ghilas was standing just outside his tent, arms on his hips as he stared at Mother Giselle. She sang softly, and one by one, more and more began to join in. It was quiet at first, but the song elevated, leaving it to hum through everyone with profound meaning. Even Bran pulled away from Toni, though a hand gently clasped a hold of his, and began to sing. Toni watched in awe before his gaze sat upon Ghilas. Toni could only smile. 

The gesture was so profound to the other elf, it left Ghilas standing there, taking in everyone's face. They held him in such high regard, and it seemed to really sink in at that moment. Ghilas needed this. He needed people to believe in him so strongly. He needed people to show him that he didn’t have to be what he thought he was. To them? He was their Herald; a source of courage, strength, and compassion. 

 

The song ended, and the feel of the camp was different now -- stronger. They had the will to continue on, even in the midsts of this darkness, and it was because of Ghilas and his efforts against Corypheus. They would continue. And Ghilas? Ghilas would change. He could change. He was already beginning to. 

Athim smiled happily from his spot by the fire. He had joined in on the song and was happy to see his sister as she made her way towards him. Seemed as though she had a moment to herself, and she could spend it with her sibling. 

“Ma’lin!” Athim called for her, waving. “Enora, this is Toni,” Athim introduced the two. “Toni, this is my sister, Enora,” 

“Aneth ara,” Enora smiled and Toni bowed his head lightly. 

“Nice to meet you,” he turned his gaze to Bran. “And this is Bran,” Toni chuckled. “Bran, meet Athim and his sister, Enora,” 

“Pleasure,” 

“Toni was with the Herald when they escaped the Elder one,” Athim explained. 

“Well, then Andraste be praised you both made it out alright,” Toni smiled and nodded his head. “Or the creators. Whoever at this point,” Athim and Toni both giggled. 

“Well, it was nice meeting you, but Athim and I should get some rest. It’s been a long day,” Enora was quick to jump into sister-mode. Athim just seemed to pout, but he couldn’t argue. Everyone was tired. 

“Sure. No problem. I’ll see you around,” Toni smiled and waved a bit.    
“Okay!” Athim grinned from ear to ear before following his sister Enora to their tent. This left Toni and Bran alone for the moment, and he was happy to have the peace. 

 

The two of them sat quietly by the fire for what seemed like the longest time. Neither of them bothered by those around them, as things seemed to quiet down for the night. Toni kept himself curled in the blanket, and the warmth of the fire helped them both stay warm for the moment. But time trickled on, and Toni yawned absent-mindedly. He was exhausted -- both mentally and physically -- and hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since his arrival back at camp.    
Bran took it upon himself to help the young man along, as he got up from his spot by the fire and lifted Toni into his arms. Toni blinked though happily curled up in his blanket much like a cocoon, and leaned into the other. 

“Where are we going?”    
“Our tent. You need to sleep,”    
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” 

Bran snorted a bit. 

“You’ll sleep before then,” Bran slipped into the tent and gently laid Toni down amongst the pillows and blankets that had been set up. It was rather comfortable. And with Bran laying beside him, all snuggled up and under the covers, Toni was exceptionally warm. It was comforting, and with exhaustion settling over him, Toni was out like a light. 

Bran only chuckled and adjusted the covers to the elf, before nestling down beside him to sleep. 

 

\----

 

The morning came too soon, but both boys were up and about. Ghilas had been informed of a place to go -- a place for the Inquisition to say -- from Solas. They just needed to find it. And so, everyone was packing up and getting ready to head out when Toni emerged from the tent, stretching into the morning light. Probably the best sleep he had gotten in ages. But he felt safe with Bran. It was no wonder he could sleep beside the other so soundly. 

Bran yawned as he stepped out from the tent, and he looked to Toni as he fiddled with the scarf around his neck. Eyes narrowed down upon the bruises Ghilas had left behind. 

“What are those?” Bran questioned, and Toni looked at him, before looking down to his person. He couldn’t see anything, but the realization seemed to sink in. Toni’s stomach tightened, and he immediately wrapped the scarf around his neck to hide the marks. 

“Oh? Nothing! Probably just some bruising from when Ghilas and I fell into the cavern,” Toni tried playing it off, but Bran wasn’t having it. 

He stepped forward, pulling back the scarf to get a better look. Bite marks. Ghilas had sunk his teeth into Toni’s neck hard enough to leave a mark. Toni couldn’t even look Bran in the eye. They didn’t...do anything. But Toni knew what Bran would think. 

“What did he do to you?” Words he hadn’t expected but sent a shiver down his spine nonetheless.    
“Nothing!” Toni immediately began to worry, pulling the scarf back and wrapping his neck. “Nothing happened between us, honest!”    
Bran’s eyes narrowed slightly before he turned and green eyes scanned the area for the Herald. Ghilas hadn’t been able to look at Toni since they arrived. Everything was beginning to make sense in his head, and Bran felt the need to confront the man on the matter. 

Nobody touched Toni without the boy’s permission. Nobody laid a damned finger on that boy without permission, but by the way Toni attempted to cover himself...those eyes...those whiskey eyes they looked to the ground. Toni was hiding it. He wanted to forget. 

Ghilas had done something to him, and Bran was furious. And he hadn’t been there to protect him. 

“Bran, please,” Toni gently grabbed ahold of his arm and the other turned his head to look at him. The anger that laid in his gaze left Toni to wince, almost shrink away from the other, but he held himself there. “Nothing happened. I swear,”

“Those teeth marks say otherwise, Toni,” and with that, Bran pulled away and headed straight for the Herald, hand upon his hilt.    
“Bran! Wait!” Toni followed after him, afraid of the confrontation that would surely come.  

Bran’s sword was unsheathed and Toni felt fear wrap around him like a blanket, only to suffocate him. “Bran! It isn’t what you think, I swear!”

Toni looked around, eyes desperate to find anyone -- something -- that could deter Bran for just a moment. He needed to just listen to him. Someone! Make him listen!

“Templar!” Cullen’s voice rose over the silence like a waving crashing against the shore. “Get a hold of yourself,” the order was swift, and it caused Bran to instantly straighten up. There was a soft snort as Bran sheathed his sword again. Cullen was his superior, and in that moment, Toni was thankful for Bran’s Templar training. 

Whiskey eyes locked with brown, and he mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before Toni managed to wiggle his way into Bran’s line of sight instead of Ghilas. Cullen looked on, confused as to what the issue was, but waited patiently to see how Toni handled the situation now that he had a moment to speak. 

“Bran, I know what it looks like, okay? Totally aware. But nothing happened,” Toni sighed. “Almost did, I’ll admit that. But I talked to him. We talked. Things are fine. I handled it,” Toni placed both his hands upon Bran’s arms as they crossed over his chest. “Had anything happened, I’d totally let you defend my honor, ok?” Toni chuckled lightly. “My honor is intact. Everything's fine. A little uncomfortable, yes. But it’s fine. He’s learning. And I learned something too..” Toni’s gaze turned to look at Ghilas, who was staring at them both just waiting for the situation to change. Ghilas was poised for an attack, and the look on his face spoke volumes. He was prepared for it if Bran decided not to listen to either Cullen or Toni. 

 

But nothing happened. Instead, Toni looked back to his beloved and stared up into those green orbs of his with a smile on his face. 

“Do you remember the day we met, Bran?” 

Bran all but softened and looked down at the smaller male. He remembered. It was almost funny to think that he found his heart that day in the forest. They had been so young, but Bran had felt it. Something about that boy would change him. And it seemed for the better. 

“I do,” Toni smiled. “Clear as day,” a gentle hand came down and placed itself upon Toni's cheek. He smiled, leaning his head on that hand before the other wrapped around his torso. Toni felt surrounded by the other, but instead of feeling panicked like he had with Ghilas, he felt comforted and warm. Mythal’s breath, he was always so warm. Toni couldn't resist and brought himself closer, snuggling into his warmth. 

“I met my vhenan that day,” Toni practically whispered. 

Bran was smiling, “Me too,” and with that, Toni pushed up on his tiptoes to kiss the other. This was much better than having to stop him from killing the Herald. Much better. 

Their lips touched and for a moment they were alone. Everything around them faded away. Even the cold disappeared long enough for them to enjoy the moment. Toni pulled away, smiling up at Bran before he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He checked, only to burst into giggles at the sight of a flustered commander Cullen walking away. He had stopped to watch Bran for any more advances, only to be caught off guard by how quickly Toni could shift the tension. 

Bran didn't even need to look. Toni hadn't giggled like that before, and the sound left him laughing in its wake. 

“We had an audience,” Toni revealed. “Took your commander off guard,” Toni burst into giggles again. Bran continued to laugh, his forehead pressing against Toni's. And they stayed like that for a moment. 

“Come,” Bran was the one who finally pulled back. “We should finish getting ready,” his green orbs looked up only to find Ghilas was gone. He hadn't stuck around long enough to witness their moment. Good. Either way, Bran would confront this Herald. Toni had gone through enough. He didn't deserve to feel violated. But for now, they would continue. 

 

Into the mountains, the Herald led them. Further and further from where Haven once stood. And everyone followed. They weren't sure where they were going, but with Ghilas leading the way, nobody seemed to question. Bran struggled with the idea that Ghilas was sent by Andraste. He was devout, but Ghilas...after what happened with Toni...he wasn't so sure. But what if he was wrong? For the moment, Ghilas was the only one who could close rifts. He had sealed the breach, and now discovered who killed the Divine in the first place; Ghilas was that things enemy. He would have to defeat him, one way or another. Everything up to then...his survival of the conclave...of Haven...with Toni in tow, could he claim it as merely chance? Or was there some kind of holy intervention keeping him alive? Bran couldn't tell. But Toni followed still, even after what happened in the caverns, so Bran followed. For now. He would be keeping an eye on this Herald of Andraste from now on. 

 

Hours passed and no sign of where the Herald was taking them. Solas walked with Ghilas, leading him in the right direction it seemed until they finally came upon it; Skyhold. 

Ghilas had stopped and stared in awe, leaving Toni time to come up behind the other elf and see firsthand what they did; a castle perfectly placed in the mountains. Large enough for the growing Inquisition. And Toni gasped, looking back to Bran as he stepped up beside him to see. It was everything they needed. Ghilas had delivered again. Even Toni was beginning to believe he had a God’s favor. But was it Andraste? Or someone else? 

 

Skyhold wasn't in the best shape, it had definitely seen better days, and Toni could feel the magic in the very stone as they came upon it. It had witnessed much in its lifetime, and it seemed as though the magic kept it from falling. Now that this was their home, it would not be neglected to face the perils of nature on its own. It was almost as if it was happy to see them. 

Setting up was the first step. They needed to make sure all of their followers made it in safely and they needed to prepare for whatever happened. This Corypheus would not stop his attacks, and with Skyhold, they would be better equipped at handling that archdemon. 

With Skyhold, it seemed as though they had a moment to breathe. And in that moment, something miraculous happened. Ghilas -- the Herald of Andraste -- was named Inquisitor and leader of the Inquisition. A fitting role for a man who seemed to be leading it already, but the look of pure surprise on the other elf’s face was reassuring. Ghilas was changing. Toni continued to watch. Ever since that night in camp...all those people singing...they believed in him and Ghilas was left in awe of that realization. He was not simply someone who was capable of saving them anymore -- he was someone they looked up to, believed in, and respected.    
Ghilas -- for the time being -- would lie and admit to it being more so his interests in people worshipping him. But Toni knew better. The way that same awe washed over the other as he stood there upon the steps, towering over the courtyard as Cassandra and Leliana offered him that sword; the way he protested, unsure that his leadership would be best. He was an elf after all, but that seemed to neither hinder his ability, nor pose a problem for those following him; the way Ghilas took the sword within his hand and stared down at it as realization began to sink in. He was their Inquisitor now. Corypheus was their enemy, and Ghilas was the only one capable of standing in his way. The world rested on his shoulders, and for a moment, Ghilas seemed unsure of himself. But that moment was fleeting, and pride swelled within his chest.    
“Corypheus will never let me live in peace. He made that clear,” his golden eyes shifted from the sword and to the crowd watching him with bated breath. “He intends to be a God, to rule over us all. Corypheus must be stopped,” 

The others watched as Cassandra stepped into view. 

“Have our people been told?”    
“They have. And soon, the world,” Josephine spoke, and Toni looked back to her, and then Cullen and the others. 

“Commander, will they follow?” 

Toni watched from the sidelines as Commander Cullen turned to their people and rallied them for this moment. To see such loyalty to one of their own was astonishing. Ghilas should be proud though he knew the other had much more to learn from his companions and from his following. 

“Inquisition, will you follow?” The roar of the crowd grew louder with each question, and it resonated within his chest. This was happening. Truly happening. And it was a blessing. “Will you fight? Will we triumph?” the roar louder than ever, and Cullen turned, unsheathing his sword. “Your Leader, Your Herald, Your  _ Inquisitor _ !”    
Ghilas raised his sword, and stood over the crowd, reveling in the moment. 

Even Toni was inspired as he shouted with joy. This was an Elf standing for all of Thedus, and someone Toni looked up to -- even with the incident in the caverns days prior. Ghilas wasn’t who he thought he was, and this was the moment where he would begin to see it for himself. 


End file.
